Size Does Matter
by HawkingRadiation
Summary: What if Daria and Quinn were quite tall? How would they and their lives be different? How would everyone else react? Read how the characters deal with 'big' problems in their daily life. Hibernation's over.
1. Chapter 1 The Arrival

**Size does matter - Chapter 1**

**by HawkingRadiation  
**(aka BlackHole at PPMB,SFMB)

Story (C)2008 by BlackHole  
Daria and associated characters are (C)2008 MTV Networks  
(who still deprive the Daria community of a decent DVD box set containing all Daria episodes  
— preferably in uncut condition with the original soundtrack)  
Used without explicit permission and with explicit appreciation  
Thanks to my beta readers!

* * *

**Preface**

Once upon a time there were two ICs.

IC: Tall like Me

"What if Daria and Quinn were quite tall? Let's make Daria 6'1" and Quinn 6'2". How would they and their lives be different?"  
Note: "tall" leaves width and depth open...

IC: The son he always wanted

"Daria acting like a boy. She could be raised as one. She could simply be a tomboy (...) or some other freaky reason makes her act the part. How would everyone else react?"

None of these got elaborate responses, but they really inspired me - especially in combination. Read what my sick mind gave birth to...

* * *

**The Arrival**

Tree, tree, house, carport, tree, empty lot, house, garage, lawn, tree, carport, house, tree, lawn...

«_Great. We traded the desolate Texan countryside in desert climate for a desolate suburb in the humid and cold middle east._» Daria thought to herself as she watched the town pass by from the backseat of her father's Lexus.

Sitting behind her father who navigated the unfamiliar streets of Lawndale she had a clear view at her sister to her right side, who had moved the passenger seat to its ultimate backward position. Watching Quinn's lost-in-thought posture she knew that her sister had similar mixed feelings about the things to come.

«_I'd like to trade problems with you..._»

She redirected her attention to the cityscape to the left as she worked on her prejudices of the locals.

«_The houses are in better shape than in Highland. Well, must come with the cold winter. You would freeze your ass off in a shag like they build in Texas. Cars look more upscale as well. Maybe the local IQ100 won't correspond to IQ87 in the national rating. Geez, Highland was a hole._»

Feeling a gaze on her she turned back right and saw her sister looking at her.

«_You think the same thing, aren't you? 'Maybe we can live a normal life here.' How much I hope we could. Having normal friends, going on normal dates doing normal things. But normal is impossible. For both of us, and you didn't even pick the shortest straw._»

Daria mentally groaned at her unintended pun. While being 16 months Quinn's senior, she wasn't the 'big sister'. At 6'4" Quinn was, and so Daria voluntarily surrendered the additional legroom offered by the passenger seat to her.

«_At least Dad ain't that tall, so it isn't that cramped behind him. There is no way I'd fit behind Quinn._»

'Short' wasn't an attribute one would use for any of the Morgendorffer sisters. At 6'3" Daria stood quite tall herself.

«_I would be able to live with that. But with the rest I really drew the short straw..._»

Jake was well aware of the girl's trepidation, and came to the conclusion that they were given enough time to brood.

He decided to interrupt the non-conversation that to some extend was covered up by the radio that Quinn had turned on immediately after they left their new home.

"Daria, don't look at it as a burden, but as an opportunity. People'll know you just the way you are right now. Blend in a little. Please?"

«_Daria comes first. Again. I know you do not mean to, but... I know you love me, but you and Daria share something that I'll never be a part of. _»

Daria gestured at Quinn and herself as she replied "We kind of stick out. Everywhere."

«_Yeah_» Quinn mentally agreed «_but at least the attention's divided as long as we're together. There'll be no real good half..._»

"I mean... Just don't actively try to hide in some mousehole."

"I would not dare to enter a building with mouseholes in my size."

Jake sighted.

"Quinn, support your sister even if you have not settled in yourself. You're better with people. Please."

«_Who'll support me, Daddy?_»  
"No problem, dad."

"Don't be afraid about missing the first two weeks of your freshmen year, Quinn. You'll catch up with the curriculum in a breeze. And Daria's going to help you. Right kiddo?"

«_Kiddo my ass. I easily match you in size and weight._»  
"Hm, sure dad. Just ask, Quinn."

«_That is not the kind of support that I had on my mind, but..._»  
"We start of with some orientation stuff, right?"

"That's what the brochure said. Go to office, sign in, pick up class schedule, get tour. The rest - we'll see. God, I hope they have decent sized furniture and not that old stuff that was designed considering the '60s average height...1860s" Daria said with a smirk provoking a chuckle from Jake and Quinn.

«_At least she's joking._»  
"You can always ask for a larger seat. They'll understand. NOT LIKE THAT LOUSY... you know." Jake stopped himself.

«_Unless they are blind._» Quinn and Daria thought in unison.

After a minute of silence, Daria offered her father "Bet you 10 I'll be mistaken for a guy at least 5 times today."

«_Ah, Daria, why do you always turn the knife stuck in your own chest._» Quinn just knew it.

"Deal. Bet you 2 times max. Closest wins." Jake said while presenting his hand to Daria behind him to seal the deal.

«_Daddy, you're such a bad liar, but nice try. At least you're not trying to sugarcoat things with some 'no one will mistake my daughter' crap. Daria's BS-detector would go off the scale, and you know she hates being lied to. At least it's a good time for her to meet new people. I checked that this morning._»

"Done. Remember, cash, or I'll sick my goons on you."

«_Daria, do you have any idea what strangers would think if they overheard you say stuff like that?_»

Quinn leaned her head on the window. Daria wondered about the uneasy expression on her sister's face.

«_What's it with Quinn's mood? It's going to be 'vene vidi vici' and all boys up to the seniors will worship her. OK, the girls are likely to hate her to the same degree, but she managed to placate 'em in Junior High, so what?_»

"Girls, remember, your Mom and I have to get settled in at our new jobs today. If we're not back on time, take care of yourselves. The kitchen's unpacked and we did our initial grocery shopping, so just cook whatever you like."

"Can I take a detour on the way back to see the neighborhood?" Quinn asked, and Jake's answer was quick.

"No Quinn, come home straight on the first day. We'll have a lot things to talk about. You can look around later."

"So, you and mom going to be home or not?" Daria demanded slightly irritated.

"We're trying to get home early, but no promises. Just go home straight. Ah, look girls, that's your new school, right there. Doesn't look it nice and welcoming?"

They rode the last minute in silence and took the location in. Sport fields bordered on the street well before they approached the simple, but on the first impression well kept buildings. A drop-offcircle with a sign announcing "Lawndale High" was next to the main entrance, and a parking lot continued the school's front on the other side of the buildings.

«_Convenient._» Daria thought, «_Very few students mill around the school area. The locals time their arrival at school with much less leeway than we newbies. Maybe we won't immediately draw attention._»

«_Here goes nothing_» both girls thought as Jake pulled into the drop-off circle and stopped the Lexus.

"Have a good day, girls. Mom and I'll be thinking of you. Love you both!" Jake said as he petted Quinn's head.

«_It messes my hair a little, but ..._»

With a "love you too" Quinn was out of the car and strode her trademark big steps towards the main doors, while Jake and Daria watched the students' reactions. A group of three girls eyed Quinn and immediately intensified the chatter among them.

"As expected. They have a 'The new secretary is pretty young and damn cute'-look all over. Haven't spotted a single guy in the vicinity that did not stare at her until she vanished inside. You dad?"

Jake did not answer immediately, but turned a little bit as Daria opened the door. He was as uneasy as the girls.

"Look after Quinn, Daria. She needs you more than she lets on."

The car's suspension adjusted again as another passenger got out.

"Dad, you know I'm not convinced of that. She handles herself pretty well. It wasn't her who was..."

"Just do it." Jake cut Daria off. He looked at her in the eyes, she nodded and closed the car's door without another word.

«_Daria, you've really a blind spot for Quinn. At least I don't have to worry about guys trying to force you to do anything._» Jake thought as he rode off to his office to prepare for his first client in Lawndale. The appointment was for 10 o'clock.

* * *

"..and her legs go on, like, forever!"

Sandi Griffin, President of the Lawndale High Fashion Club was clearly impressed with the woman that just slipped through the main doors and headed to the offices.

"If she's a new secretary, the guys'll start fights just to be sent to the office to see her!" giggled Stacy.

"She is so tall,..." Tiffany started, and in order to finish the conversation before the sound of the tardy bell Stacy chimed in.

"6'3" at least...and that walk! She must be a model!" .

Sandi sensed trouble and immediately went to work in order to get her sycophants back in line.

"Puhleaze! If she'd be model, why should she be working as a secretary? And besides that, we didn't see her up close. I'm sure her face is not nearly as cute as mine. Or any of yours. Maybe she has a really bad case of acne..."

"EWWW"

"Oh my god, Sandi, did you see her clothes? They were so last month. Or at least three weeks old. You're right Sandi, she can't be a model. No way."

"Exactly Stacy. A model that is not up-to-date in fashion is like an ox-moron, aeh, forbids itself. That tallness is so totally wasted on someone like her."

"So did you see the announcement for the spring fashion preview posted at Cashman's ..."

Stacy brought the pre-school fashion club meeting back on schedule, only to be interrupted shortly after.

"Whooooaaaa" said Tiffany, her drawl adding tothe sound's graveness.

Following her gaze Sandi and Stacy got a glimpse at back of another person heading into the school towards the office.

"Did you see his shoulders?" Tiffany drawled into the subsequent silence. That was a view to her liking.

"Very impressive. And he was quite tall as well. I'd be able to recall if there was someone like him at Lawndale High. Must be a transfer student. Likely a football player. Do we need a temporary replacement for the quarterback - again?" Sandi stated, fearing that she missed some important gossip.

"The cheerleaders were not talking about anything like that when I overheard them yesterday, Sandi." Stacy reassured Sandi. "Did you see that nice wavy brown hair fixed in a pony tail. It looks so ... rebellious."

"Of course I noticed, but did **you** notice that ugly army jacket he was wearing? A total fashion-don't. Let's hope he gets his letter-jacket quick and starts wearing it, otherwise his popularity is sooooo going to drop." Sandi took the offense.

The discussion of the new arrival's dateability took precedence over the planned fashion club pre school meeting schedule, continued during the girls' walk to the classroom, and was brought to an end as the teacher interrupted the girls by starting their class.

* * *

"... my sister should be here any second" Quinn told the secretary just as Daria entered the office - just in time to see the color drain from the secretary's already bugeyed face, "ah, there you are!"

"...your brother?" was the only thing the secretary was able to utter as her eyes danced between the Morgendorffer siblings.

"One. Daria Morgendorffer." Daria introduced herself. «_Dammit, things started so good..._»

"My sister. As your records say."  
«_You do realize that you just messed up, do you? These things hurt her._»

Since the secretary showed no indication to proceed, Daria decided to press on.

«_You're neither fast nor good at covering up..._»  
"You seem to have noticed our presence, so I consider us signed in. The brochure says you're supposed to hand us our class schedules next."

This got the secretary out of her confusion and she started to go through a file muttering "M..M...Morgen... M-O-R-G-E-N-D-O-R-doubleF-E-R?"

«_She can read! And spell!_»  
"Yes. Daria, that's delta-alpha-romeo-india-alpha, would be me."  
«_Let's have some fun._»  
"My **little sister** here's Quinn. Quebeq-uniform-india-double november".

The secretary did a double-take at this, but handed Daria her schedule after verifying the names' spelling on the records. She froze as she glanced at Quinn's schedule while handing it to her.

«_That can't be true!_»  
"You're a freshman?"

"Yes!" Quinn answered in full charm mode.

«_And she does it again. She just loves it, doesn't she._»  
Daria knew what would come next.

"You are 14 years old?" - "14 and 8 months!" Quinn answered with a radiant smile while prying the schedule from the secretary's hand.

"Ah. Ah. OK. Hm. Please wait next door for the other new students to arrive, you'll get the tour then."

Quinn instinctively ducked under the doorframe into an empty waiting area, and Daria closed the door to the office happy that she at least was able to walk upright through regular doors. Before the door closed, they heard the secretary mutter to herself "I need a drink!".

"That was fun!" stated Quinn.

"Could've been worse." was Daria's dry answer as she sat down on one of the simple chairs.

«_If she's smart, she's gonna warn whoever's going to face us next._»

* * *

During the next quarter of an hour four more students emerged the office into the waiting area.

A rather short girl with her hair dyed red, wearing a black jacket and an ankh pendant. A short guy in a blue sweater with glasses, a short guy wearing incredible baggy pants and a medium girl with shoulder long brown hair wearing a white blouse under a blue cardigan. They sat in silence and eyed each other warily.

«_Teacher's pet. Don't get her wet, keep her out of bright light, and never feed her after midnight. I can see that you're unsure what to think of me. And nervously averting your stare does not exactly help._»

Daria used the idle time to familiarize herself with her schedule.

«_If we weren't be sitting, they would already have freaked out. Quinn with her long legs particularly deceives the eye while sitting._»

Daria's musings were interrupted by an Asian women entering the waiting area from another office well after homeroom ended and the first period had started.

Her eyes scanned the new arrivals and lingered a little bit longer on Quinn and Daria.  
«_Yes, she's been warned._»

"Welcome new students, I'm Ms. Li, the principal of Laaaaaawndale High."

The students began to rise from their chairs and turned to Ms. Li, who watched the Morgendorffer siblings as they rose as well.

«_Show time._»

«_Whoa!_» said the boy wearing the baggy clothes while the other students just stared. The teachers pet took a step away from Daria who eyed the girl from above.

«_And the verdict is in: intimidating._»

«_Come on, glasses-guy, stop staring, look at the principal and wipe the drool of your face. You're SOOO sophisticated. Daria, you've no idea how happy you are not to have to deal with that shit._»

"We are a fine institution of higher education and I am proud to say that under my administration this school has really started to flourish. Our school strives to provide the students an effective learning environment, and I take whatever means necessary to ensure that my, er, our reputation stays untarnished."

Ms. Li droned on about the benefits of her, eh, the school. Football, cheerleading, track team, baseball ... which did not sit well with Daria.

«_Ah. This is a school: Well equipped library, safe labs, teaching material from the current century and qualified teaching staff strictly optional. But I don't like the way she looked at me when she mentioned the athletics stuff._»

Ms. Li went on. Locker assignments with codes on the schedule, zero tolerance policy for tardiness, damage of school property, harassment and about everything else beside breathing. Fundraising activities. Other 'voluntary' activities.

«_Welcome to the brave new world. Everything not forbidden is mandatory. Do you notice that you're describing a school - and haven't used the word 'teaching' once within the last 20 minutes? At last now I know how things are going to work, Kommandant Li_» Daria thought somewhat bitter, «_however it'd be a benefit if those zero tolerance policies are all enforced._»

"OK students, now let me show you around the premises" Ms. Li said and led the group through a stereotypical school hallway to a side door whileexplaining the locker and classroom numbering system. The students watched impressed as Quinn ducked through the first doorway, but then Daria and Quinn out of habit took the back of the group.

Ms. Li led them through the sports facilities and showed them the location of the locker rooms, the pool, the courts and the gym.

«_Have to check this out. Maybe we can use that for our physiotherapy._» Daria thought as she shot a meaningful gaze at Quinn.

«_Yeah, yeah, I know, you'll not let me skip my exercises._»

Periods changed as they moved to inspect the outdoor fields, where students started running laps and exercising despite the, for Daria's and Quinn's taste, cold weather.

Via the library building, which housed an average collection, they returned to the main building.

Daria was content with the day so far. She'd been mistaken only once, and the attention was kept on a minimum level.

«_Could be because we haven't been exposed to the student body so far...or my new cloaking device really works well. Shit._»

During the visit to the assembly hall Ms. Li looked at her watch and announced  
"2nd period is nearly over; I'm going to show you to the cafeteria and give you the opportunity for an early lunch while I take care of something. I'll pick you up shortly before 3rd period ends for the rest of the tour. Stay in the cafeteria, do not fool around! Any misdemeanor will be noticed and punished!"

Ms. Li pointed at one of the many CCTV surveillance cameras in the hallway.

They arrived at the cafeteria shortly after the bell announced the end of the 2nd period and the students started to flood the hallways. Navigating the crowd was easy, as it parted in front of Ms. Li as the red sea in front of Moses.

* * *

Jane Lane was having a bad day. Usually this being a Monday would have been sufficient to qualify for a bad day, but the third Monday of her sophomore year was exceptionally bad. She had overslept as she had pulled some crazy hours on her latest art project, only to have her sleep interrupted by her brother's drunken bandmates that carried their gear from their van into the Lane basement. At least they had tried to. Jane hadn't dared to ask who of them had driven the van from the club to the house, as all band members had been too intoxicated to walk - let alone to drive.

Only a triple expresso strong enough to pose a threat to the inox sugar spoon and her running capabilities had let her arrive at homeroom just before the tardy bell rang - saving her from an hour of detention. Mr. DeMartino had eyed her disapprovingly, but hadn't commented on it. Luckily she knew enough about Mexican history from her sister Penny's tales in order to somehow wing the predictable grilling Mr. D gave her even without doing the assigned reading. In any other class she would have been sleeping already, but Mr. D kept his students on the edge. Today, Kevin seemed a little bit hung over, and so Mr. D took delight in talking rather loudly at him to provide Kevin's headache with an opportunity to unfold to its maximum extent.

Second period was economics with Ms. Bennet. Jane tried to make out the hidden meaning in her diagrams to avoid nodding off, but she came up empty - and she usually could see the meaning of a painting done by Dali on acid.

On her way to her third period - math - she spotted a group of students down the hallway being led towards the cafeteria by Ms. Li.

«_New cannon fodder. Welcome to the third circle of suburbian hell - and Ms. Li's laboratory for applied Darwinism: the LHS cafeteria. Whoa. Check the two at the back. They really stick out. That tall, must be seniors. The girl is going to give the popular circles some grief. And the guy, ohlala, look at those shoulders. Nice. Really nice. Yummy. Has a smooth walk, must do some sports. Ah, crap, for sure a football player - with all known amenities._»

Math class passed much faster than usual for Jane, as she replayed the procession towards the cafeteria before her minds eye and did some quick sketches. She realized that those people must have been even taller than she initially estimated once she took the top line of the lockers into account. And that his clothing didn't exactly fit the in-crowd. Maybe he was more than eye candy. Maybe she would get a chance.

* * *

Once inside the cafeteria Ms. Li signaled the staff that the newcomers were supposed to stay there and should be served lunch even before the official lunch period started.

"Get your lunch, and stay here until I pick you up in about 50 minutes. Start socializing! And behave!" Ms. Li ordered the group prior to leaving the lunchroom.

The group silently formed a line in the same order as they entered the room, and after everybody grabbed a tray and cutlery.

«_Sporks! **Plastic** Sporks! Are we supposed to eat using our fingers?_»

The boy with the baggy trousers started it.

"Er, emm,..." he stammered at Quinn.

"Yes?"

"err, justhowtallareyouguys?!"

"I'm 6'4". My sister is 6'3" " answered Quinn willingly as Daria looked around her sister to face the whole group. «_It has begun._»

"Sister? You didn't verify that, did you?" said the boy in the blue sweater to himself - and became quite embarrased when he noticed that he had said it aloud.

«_Two_» Daria thought as she rolled her eyes, «_but he didn't say it, so it doesn't count._»

"Sorry, hmm, its just that..." he apologised at Quinn's stern look.

"I know." Daria said as she indicated him to advance the line.

"You're seniors as well?" asked the teachers pet in order to loosen the situation.

"Freshman."

"Sophomore."

"You're kidding!"

"I don't kid about having three years until graduation. That thought is plain too scary to joke about."

Daria noticed the tiny redhead looking at her and stared back.

"I'm a sophomore as well" she apologised.

"Then you understand my dread."

"Did you repeatedly repeat classes?" asked the boy in the blue sweater feeling bolder.

«_So, your name's Mr-Foot-in-Mouth. Get some salt and your lunch is complete_» Daria thought.

"God, you're hopeless" said the teacher's pet shaking her head.

"Eh, and why is that?"

"Just think about how the question you ASKED relates to the question you wanted ANSWERED!"

«_She ain't no dummy. Let's deliver Mr-Foot-in-Mouth from his predicament and get it over with._»

"We just grew up too fast and now look older than we are. Thank God I don't look as old as I feel."

Daria's answer provoked a chuckle from the group and silenced the conversation for the time being.

«_And this way my fake ID is plausible._»

Every one picked up some food, and started to settle down at a convenient table next to the checkout counter.

Years of experience told the ladies operating the food counter that Daria and Quinn would not appreciate a normal serving, even when Quinn asked for a salad.

Quinn waited for Daria to pay, and Daria knew that Quinn would not let her sit on her own.

"You're not going to eat all of that?"

"No, I'm keeping half of it to put it on the compost heap I have in my locker" Daria said rolling her eyes before digging in. The food immediately assaulted her taste buds.

«_Yuk, this stuff is gross. And bland on top. If the food is continuously this bad, I'll have to consider alternatives._»

The others ate in silence as they watched Daria slowly but systematically empty her tray.

"So where're you guys from? We're from Texas" offered Quinn in order to get some small talk going.

"Some village in Pennsylvania, a real backwood quarter compared to Lawndale" the tiny red head answered.

«_Village in Pennsylvania and you're wearing an ankh? I bet there are some interesting stories to tell..._»

Daria thought as she tuned the other students telling about their whereabouts and the perks Lawndale offered - or not - out. Quinn had cleverly steered the conversation away from the sibling's size.

The general staring and gawking subsided as everyone was busy talking and eating. The others' meals weren't better than Daria's, and Quinn copiously complained about the salad.

Daria noticed the ankh-girl looking at her again.

"You think we'll share some classes?"

«_Please don't let her be another lesbian starting to make a move on me. I hate these situations._»

Daria adjusted her glasses, nodded at her and continued with her dessert well after everybody else had finished their lunch. Quinn offered the girl an apologising look after she noticed the last part of their exchange.

A little later Ms. Li returned to the cafeteria.

"Students, return the trays and follow me. Everyone is going to have a short talk to our school psychologist and then you'll be ready to join the afternoon classes among the happy students of Laaaawndale High."

Quinn heard Daria utter a single word that per LHS rules could cause detention.

* * *

Jane eyed the selection at the lunchroom carefully. As this was a Monday, there was no danger of getting leftovers from the day before, but coincidentally the available options were more limited than the other days.

«_Do you really think nobody realizes this?_»

Jane opted for a prepacked sandwich that was thus safe for human consumption, and the coffee with the free refill option. She would get some real food for dinner, provided Trent did the grocery shopping as he promised. Otherwise, she would make him pick up some pizza to make it up to her. The cafeteria's coffee had the quality of common dishwater, but 6 mugs would get her through the afternoon.

«_Ah, crap, that stupid self-esteem class starts its first cycle today. I've to stay another hour. Ah, Trent won't notice anyway. First cycle of the year, there should be many new faces to sketch. I wonder which regulars will be back - beside myself._»

The staff did not complain as she filled herself a seventh helping of coffee into her private travel mug.

* * *

The threat of the psychological exam efficiently silenced any conversation among the new comersthat found themselves in another small waiting area. The teacher's pet was asked in first by the school's psychologist, Ms. Manson.

«_I can see fear in their eyes. Nobody likes someone else to poke around one's brain. At least Daria and I have a little experience with that profession._»

«_I wonder if you know what you are doing or just some quack hired by the school at minimum wage to keep up an appearance. If I ask you if you're related to Charles Manson you're going to have me committed, aren't you?_»

After hardly 10 minutes the teacher's pet returned.

"It's completely harmless, just speak your mind. I'm off to class."

As she left, Ms. Manson asked the boy in the blue sweater in. When after further 10 minutes the other girl was called in, Daria was sure that she and her sister would be the last students to go through the ordeal.

«_What do you know, what not, what do you want to know?_»  
Daria's thoughts raced as she planned options for the upcoming conversation.

"Daria, Quinn, please enter."

Ms. Manson's words brought Daria back to reality and she just got a glimpse at the last boy leaving.

"Whoa, you're really tall. Please have a seat" Ms Manson said as she watched the girls enter and seated herself on one of three chairs at a small, round table. Daria and Quinn had to struggle a little to find sufficient legroom.

"I guess you get that a lot. You see, people can't help it, you're just impressive. Just ignore it."

Ms. Manson skimmed through some files.

"You come from a very different situation than the other students. I just run a standardized test with them to gauge their reaction."

She held up a picture card with the silhouettes a man and woman talking.

"I called you in last so we would have more time to talk. I think that is necessary. My idea is to talk about the things that you have in common with both of you saving everyone some time, and have a little one-on-one talk with each of you girls afterwards. OK?"

The girls did not give an answer, just something that could be interpreted as a nod.

"Nobody is comfortable with talking to a psychologist. I don't expect you to. I can accept that, but I have to do my job. So let me do the talking right now. During the transfer procedure LHS received your old school records. And had a look at them. And they don't indicate even the smallest irregularity."

«_Yeah. No problems at all. Mom had them launder the records on the hottest setting with extra bleach._»

Daria barely contained a smirk. That was something her mother was good at.

Ms. Manson took a mental note, looked at the file again and sighed.

"I gather you are an exceptional student, Daria, and Quinn isn't doing badly either."

Daria nodded, but remained silent.  
«_Quinn could do better, though._»

"Some extra curricular activities. Yearbook, school newspaper. Performing arts. That seems genuine as well. But that is about all in here."

Ms. Manson shut the file and looked at the girls.

"My gut tells me that this is just a little too normal for the two of you. So tell me about the things that are not on record."

She still looked at the girls. Daria had not moved even a little since she had sat down and looked her straight in the eyes. Quinn's eyes were darting around the room every now and then. After a short moment Daria leaned a little forward, put her hands on her knees and spoke up.

"The records are true. Are we done now?"  
«_That does not imply complete..._»  
Daria wanted to get over with this interview.  
«_Just let bygones be bygones._»

"Sorry, not yet."

Quinn contemplated into the silence to tell some minor facts, but stopped herself after a quick glance at Daria's face, now an unmoving mask.

«_Stop. She took charge, and I shouldn't disturb whatever plan she has. I hope it's working ..._»

That did not go unnoticed by Ms. Manson, as well as the fact that Daria's eyes never left her, even while the girl reassumed her previous pose. Exactly her previous pose.

«_Quinn pulled back. Intimidated? Oppressed? Violence?_»  
"I'm listening."

Quinn shifted a little in her seat and Daria just blinked her eyes, but none of them was making any indication to speak.

"You talk now or I'll inform CPS of suspected domestic violence. 'Children reluctant to talk about home life.' Works like a charm."  
«_Don't waste my time._»

Daria knew she was cornered.

«_I really don't need the lingering suspicions of any nightmares an ill disposed psychologist may stick on me. Gotta give her a little to keep her happy._»  
"Long story short: Our genetic makeup made us go through puberty in fast forward mode with exceptional growth. Doctors announced me to be full grown six weeks ago."

Ms. Manson had noted that Daria's eyes had gotten a little wider when she had brought out the heavy guns. She knew she had the upper hand now.

"What about your growth, Quinn?"

"I'm still growing, but it's decelerating. At least I should finally be able to buy some clothes that I'll be able to wear longer than three months."  
«_Tell as much as necessary to keep the shrink happy, tell as few as possible to keep Daria happy. I'll need to wrap things up in some nice happy-go-lucky words._»

Ms. Manson looked again at her files.

"Does your height cause you any problems, girls?"

"Normal beds are a little small."

Daria shrugged, but her mask was still on. Her eyes left Ms. Manson for a short time to check up on Quinn.

"Door frames are a little low. And getting decent clothes is hard. Especially if you have only a budget for short term use."

"Girls, those are more inconveniences than problems."

This time both girls shrugged.

"Hm, OK. Your home life?"

Daria took the lead again.

"We get along with our parents; there are no other siblings, mom and dad are 'happily married'. Mom frequently works crazy hours, but makes sure Dad's around. Both like a drink every now or then, but I haven't seen any abuse."  
«_Only if the extended family is gathered. And I'll never tell you..._»

Ms. Manson seemed to be satisfied with that answer.

«_Either on the better side of normal or elaborated cover-up story._»  
"Your home address isn't in the trailer park, so I suppose the financial needs are taken care for as well. I suppose you're both healthy, as I do not see any exemption from P.E. or other activities?"

Both girls gave a "Yes" on that.

«_I think that is about all that I'll get this way. Time for some separated questions to crosscheck._»  
"I think we covered all topics that were suitable for a combined session. Daria, I'd like you to step outside and stay in the waiting area while I talk to Quinn. I'll call you in later. Quinn, you want a cup of water from the cooler?"

Ms. Manson got up and moved towards the cooler, likely to get herself some water. Daria got up, picked up her backpack and headed to the door with well planned movements.

«_That is bad. She spotted the weaker target, and is going to grill Quinn to get facts to use on me._»

She took a quick look over her shoulder into Quinn's eyes, who was getting nervous again.

«_Now use your brain properly, Quinn._»

Daria watched Ms. Manson return from the water dispenser with two cups, as she closed the soundproofed door separating the office from the waiting area.

* * *

Quinn felt very uncomfortable after Daria left the room and clung to the paper cup after she took a sip. She would have to be careful about some events.

Ms. Manson quickly drained her cup.

"Well. Your sister is pretty close lipped. You seem to be much more communicative."

«_Talk about yourself, steer clear of Daria. Happy-go-lucky ..._»  
"I enjoy being around people, you know, sharing thoughts and such."

«_Translates to: gossip; no point beating around the bush._»  
"So you like the attention coming with your height."

That was something Quinn felt content about, she had to smiled a little.

"Yes, but I think my height is a little much. I can't even wear platforms or heels, it just looks awful. And having only about three sets of clothes to choose from limits you so much. Getting any decent clothes in my size on a strict budget is sooo difficult. I'm so glad my growth is slowing down. Maybe I'll get now what I'm missing in bust and hips to become perfect."

Quinn made gestures at the mentioned parts of her body, moving her thin arms and fingers in graceful, flowing motions.

«_No problems with self esteem here! And what is your problem with your body? You look good enough to be a model!_»  
"I understand that. But what about the attention?"

"Well, it is really nice to have all the guys looking at you, talk to you, do stuff for you or buy you gifts. And I really enjoy my modelling job, I like to teach people how to look perfect."

«_Someone really loves herself. And she already is a model. Ask about that later._»  
"Aren't you afraid of some guys forcing themselves unto you?"

Quinn's smile dropped a little. That was an aspect that she preferred not to think too much about. She glanced at her fingers before she remembered Ms. Manson and continued carefully.

"Oh... No... Not really. I don't date as much as I'd like to, and mom keeps really tight taps on me. Do you know how often I get that 'No! You're not even 15 yet!'? She sets rather tight rules and doesn't let me date a boy whom she hasn't met before. And, of course, there's the group dynamics."

"What do you imply by 'group dynamics'?"

"What do you think would happen if I hint, say at the football team, that some guy went rough on me? And beside that, mom made me take some self defence classes. I quit though, because all that sweating is icky. And bodily contact with those un-cute persons - ewwww. You didn't even get to wear a nice sport dress, and if you weren't really carefull, you got bruises! Bruises are so unfashionable and could permanently harm my complexion!"

«_Oh. That's smart - and devious... at least are you are aware of the problem. Likes things pristine. And that fashion-babble. Hmm, she didn't mention her sister as a possible protector. Time to switch..._»  
"Those classes are not mentioned on your school records, so I take it that you attended some external classes."

Quinn relaxed once the conversation had moved on to another topic.

"That's right, mom primarily wanted herself to attend the training and doing some bonding by attending them together seemed to be an additional benefit."

"'Together' would include your sister?"

Quinn noted her slip and immediately became alert; at least this did not concern her.

«_Careful now, Quinn._»  
"Yes, mom made both of us attend. Why would she bond with just one daughter if she could bond with both at the same time?"

"Did your mother and your sister enjoy those classes?"

"I think a little, but... they're mom and Daria."

"So, your interests differ from your sister's?"

"Of course. Daria's interests are just weird."

«_Good weird or bad weird? Ask later._»  
"So what are your interests, besides being around people?"

«_Full throttle now._»  
"I like cute things! Like, puppies, stuffed animals, those suede shoes I saw at the mall last week, and those clothes they had at the last photo shoot were just adorable. I like music as well, but only if it's performed by nice looking guys and does not distract the peoples' attention from me."

«_Your looks may deceive, but you're 14, no doubt._»  
"And what kind of activities do you like?"

Quinn began to talk animatedly, shifting in her chair.

"Well, going to the mall to shop, I especially like browsing through the accessories department, there are so many accessories to chose from giving you so much combinations to look fashionable. And it's really hard to avoid all those combinations that are unfashionable. You need constant updates to avoid fashion disasters. It's like that live long learning thing. This is why I like watching fashion TV and read every Waif issue there is. And of course I like going to the movies, a nice restaurant or an amusement park with a guy. Or just hang out with my friends talking. I like people!"

«_You mentioned that already. My head._»  
"Well, ok. Did your size cause any health problems?"

"Naa, I just have to do some regular exercises, like physiotherapy. 'Your muscles need to keep up with your skeleton' the doctors said. I don't like them, they get me sweaty and are boring, but mom and Daria are really on my back about this."

Quinn's gestures underlined her unhappiness with that fact.

* * *

Daria grew nervous as time passed and Quinn was in the hot seat. She was unsure how well Quinn would control her blabbermouth. And what kind of ammunition she would hand to the shrink to use on her. Well, she couldn't do anything about that right now. Depending on the consequences, she would have to talk to her mom about that.

The few magazines were halfway recent, but gardening and sewing magazines were not exactly to her interest. Or anybody else's.

«_That's how they make sure nobody swipes them._»

Luckily she had packed a paperback into her backpack that morning, as her textbooks would be handed out by the individual teacher through the course of the week.

«_They allow music players as long as nobody else is bothered. I'll have to remember mine for some privacy in the future._»

She fished the book out of her well-worn backpack, and immersed herself in Frisch's 'Homo faber'. She wasn't sure whether Walter Faber should be considered blessed or cursed.

* * *

«_Time to start digging._»  
"Do you get along with your sister?"

«_Darn, I thought I had her distracted. Now careful, Quinn._»  
"OK I guess. She's older, we have different interests and move in different circles. We don't mesh much."

"Even at home?"

"Yeah, Daria does her thing and I do my thing. You get good at ignoring each other if you grew up sharing a room. And Daria's especially easy to ignore being busy reading and so."

Despite her uneasiness about the topic Quinn managed to ad-lib some lez-affaire gestures.

"No tests of strength and struggles for power?"

"Huh? Why that? We're both girls. Isn't that something only boys would do?"

Quinn's puzzlement was genuine.

"That is a thing girls do all the same, but by slightly other means."  
«_I take that as a 'nay' on violence. Maybe it was just respect for the 'big sister'._»

"Do you like Daria?"

"She's my family. I'm not sure about 'liking', but I can tolerate her."

«_Keeping in mind that she's just 14. Likely translates to 'She mostly keeps to herself and does not bother me and I return the favor'._»  
"Let's move to another topic we skipped so far. Tell me a little about you father."

This was another easy topic and Quinn relaxed a little in her seat.

"Well, he's nice, really loves mom and us, runs a consultant business. He loves to cook but manages to wreck about every meal. Me and mom think he's completely untalented at cooking, but don't tell him. I think he has had a bad childhood, he frequently rants about Grandpa and his time at military school, but that got much better the last years."  
«_Since he has a 'son' of his own. And she does not need to know that Daria is able to match him in that regard._»

"Your dad is more around than your mother?"

"He's self-employed and often does paperwork at home. So he's around even while he's working. He's got call redirection and is trying to employ a part-time secretary, so he'll not be stuck in his office."

Ms. Manson looked at the clock above the door while she mentally reviewed the interview.

«_I think most answers were truthful. No indication of violence. Rather normal parents that care for their children. Realizes that she looks incredibly good, but I think she ignores some of the possible side effects. Maybe on purpose. Healthy body with minor limitations due to growth. Gets sufficiently well along with her sister. Generally a little naive. Will have minor troubles fitting in, but not much. No problem here._»

"...I think we can end our interview at this point. It's late enough already. I can currently not see any problems that would require me to report to Ms. Li..."

«_Thank God!_»

"..but I think I'll inform the school nurse to talk to your parents again about your ability to attend P.E. Your records say 'no restrictions', but the school can't take a risk with you doing physiotherapy."

«_Darn, Mom will never let me out of P.E._»

"I'll give you a library pass, and you pass the 20 minutes to the next period in there before you join your first class at LH. I trust you to obey my instructions and not to cause any trouble."

"OK. A bathroom break on the way won't be a problem?"  
«_I need to make sure to look my best if I introduce myself. Shock and Awe!_»

Quinn watched Ms. Manson fill in her name into the library pass.

"No, and the next bathroom is on the right hand side of the hallway towards the main entrance."

"You'll be talking to Daria next?" Quinn asked asshe stood, accepted the slip of paper Ms. Manson offered and put it in her backpack.

"Yes. That's why I had her wait."

The psychologist got up as well and they moved towards the office door.

«_What was that question about? The answer was obvious. Idle conversation?_»

* * *

Daria startled a little as she heard the office door open. She'd made little advance in her paperback, as her thoughts wandered towards the upcoming interview frequently.

A short eye contact with Quinn told her that no cataclysmic events had happened.

"Your sister is going to the library and join her classes at the start of the next period."

Ms. Manson looked at Quinn who was reluctant to leave, but trotted away once she was spotted.

"I need to go back in there and take some final notes. Please wait another minute, I'll call you in."

«_You waited until Quinn could not overhear that bit. You didn't want us to talk. Especially not in private. What kind of mind games are you playing?_»

Daria contemplated this until Ms. Manson called her in.

She did not like being played. She did not like people snooping around in her life. She did not like the anger that started to build on the border of her consciousness.

* * *

"Get yourself a cup of water from the dispenser and take a seat, Daria."

Ms. Manson said as she closed the door.

While Daria operated the cooler, Ms. Manson took a seat as well, shuffled her files and prepared her notepad. After Daria sat down Ms. Manson watched her take a sip, and looked her over.

«_I can see the family resemblance. But her build is even more exceptional than Quinn's. I would not like to meet her in a dark back alley. She's assuming the most formal position the chair allows her, and is likely going to return to statue-mode. But even no body language tells me something: you do not want to tell my anything._»

«_What's she looking for? Attacking is the best form of defense._»  
"Are you not going to mirandarize me?"

"You're not comfortable in here."

"I'm not comfortable with anybody poking in my private life."

"Your sister hinted at you being a private person."

Daria shrugged.  
"I respect other people's privacy and expect them to do the same."

"No details of whatever you are going to tell me will leave this room. I care about privacy."  
«_**My** privacy._»

"I'm normal student with a flawless record. You only took 10 minutes for everybody else. So: Why the special treatment?"

Ms. Manson took a note: "Stubborn smartass".

"Daria, you're a special girl. Tell me something about you."

If one knew were to look, one could have seen an impish little smile creep on Daria's lips.

"When I was two I got a doll, it was filled with some kind of beans and was rather heavy. It was of green color and I really liked to have it with me everywhere, and so I took it everywhere. To the bathroom, to the living room, into the kitchen, to the garage, to the park, to the pool, to the hospital, to ..."

«_Brat. That's self-esteem class just for that. I pray you never ally with the latest Lane kid._»  
"Daria."

The tone of Ms. Manson's voice wiped the smileof Daria's lips.

«_Ohoh. That look does not bid well. I remember the CPS line._»  
"Yes?"

"You see, the county wants to make sure that every student can have fulfilling learning experience in a safe and sound environment. And because that includes caring for the students' psychological health we have to get to know every student to spot possible problems on the horizon so we can work them out together."  
«_I never thought Ms. Li's newspeak could come handy some day._»

"Sooo..." Daria became even more suspicious.

"I need to know you a little bit better than just from the records to make sure that you're all right and will face minimum difficulties attending LHS."

"I'm just a normal student who hopes to get somehow through high school."

Ms. Manson underlined the 'smart' in 'smartass' on her note and put on her sweetest voice.

"So you're not planning to challenge the authorities, necessitating parent-teacher conferences and alike? That is **very** wise if one wants to get out of high school without resentment and good prospects. So - tell me more about you."

It took no genius to read between that lines. Daria's shoulders slumped a little. Suppressing any body language would not matter any more.

«_She has me. Involving Mom would be a...very bad idea._»  
"You would settle for a sketch?"

* * *

Quinn's trip to the library was unspectacular.

She had ducked into the restroom that Ms. Manson pointed out to her, relieved herself and checked her appearance in one of the mirrors. The restroom didn't differ much from the ones at her middle school in Highland. The whole school wasn't much different, only slightly bigger. The students made a more sane impression as well.

Still, facing her first class at high school under the given circumstances made her uneasy. At least the presence of older kids made sure that the height difference was not as incredible as it has been in her final middle school year.

She looked at her face reflected by the mirror, and automatically started to make some minor corrections to her sparse makeup. The trip to the psychologist with its uncertainties had made her nervous. It took less than five minutes to make all necessary corrections. After leaving the bathroom she headed towards the library. Navigating the empty hallways was easy, she remembered the way to the library from the initial tour. Only the faint voices of teachers and students behind the class room doors permeated the silence.

After entering she presented the pass to the librarian, who looked a little baffled at her, but courtly nodded to keep the silence. She could hear faint noises of one or two other visitors to the library, but otherwise it was empty. After a quick orientation Quinn headed to the easy chairs in the periodicals section and took a seat. Retrieving a map of Lawndale from her backpack, she started to familiarize herself with her new hometown. School. Home. Shortcut through that park? Mall. Pool. Another mall. Business district. City hall. City park. A gated community. 'Dega Street' had clubs. Eww - a landfill.

* * *

"We'll see."

More silence filled Ms. Manson's office.Daria knewshe was beaten. The rest of the interview would be rearguard action. But she relaxed a little. She would not have to hide that much anymore. Or be allowed to.

"About three years ago I was a tiny, scrawny kid. As tiny then as I'm big now. And then things got really weird. I grew a little in height, but grew tits and hips. One year later I look like one of these blow-up dolls. Then my real growth spurt started and I really got height and width. I looked like a guy, no hips, and my breasts looked like nice pecs with 'unnatural' large nipples. From there, I went to what I look now. 6'3" and about 190 pounds."

"And you don't like to talk about it?"

"I think I have already talked every word that there is to talk about that matter. Three times."

Daria seemed to be depleted.

Ms Manson added 'Has seen psychologist' to her notes.  
"Hm, Ok. I think I can assume most things from that information."

Ms. Manson looked Daria over, who returned the glance with dull eyes. Her mask was still on, but not as tight as before. 'Not happy with herself' was the next line on the notepad.  
"You hate the attention you're getting most?"

"No, and because you're going to ask it anyway, I hate being mistaken for a guy the most. At least currently."

«_Haven't thought about that._»  
"Oh. All right. Let's take a short break here, I need to take some more notes, and you can help yourself to another cup of water."

Daria was more than happy to be out of the crosshairs. At least for a while.

* * *

The bell announcing the end of the current period broke Quinn's concentration.

«_For whom the bell tolls._»

She packed the map away, strolled towards the door and steeled herself. It was time to face her audience. She would try to handle things the way she tried and tested at middle school. Be nice. Be natural. Fit in. Try to ignore the gawking. Control and steer the guys. Placate and befriend the girls. Find a somewhat similar clique that made herself stand out less. Minimize the involvement in extra curricular activities to free time for her modelling job. That was fun work, an opportunity to see fashion before it was in the stores and maybe a career. At least a start for a career.

Freshman science with Ms Barch was going to be her first class in high school - and the only one today. Locating the lab would be easy. Ms. Li's tour had been comprehensive, and the room numbering was straight forward.

Quinn's trip to the lab was something else.

As the hallways filled with students, the show began. While only a few students saw her in the morning, she was now on full display. As expected, the student body was impressed by her appearance, and the crowds willingly formed an alley to gawk at her march to class. The gossip mill would be on overdrive from this moment on. She noted the looks on the students' faces were looks of amazement. Adoration, envy, prejudices would take some time.

«_No problems for now. Tomorrow will be the real test._»

Without any holdups or getting lost, Quinn arrived at the science lab, automatically ducked through the doorway and approached the teacher.

* * *

Jane Lane left her Spanish class for the final class of the day.

«_Learning Spanish at an early age with Penny andstudying with Trent really has its perks. Spanish is a breeze and does wonders for my GPA. I'm gonna join AP Spanish for sure next year. Whoa. Look at that._»

The tall girl walked towards her class, holding her class schedule in one hand and peeking at every doorplate she passed.

Miraculously, none of the students hurrying from class to class bumped into her. Instead, she was surrounded by a six foot circle that no student dared to enter. It moved with her, as if she wore a portable device generating a force field shielding her as only known from science fiction.

«_She's even taller than I remembered. She just dwarfs the people around her. And her graceful movements. She just has to have had training to walk like that. Ouch. That hurts._»

A little down the hallway, a guy walked straight into an open locker door as he was busy staring at the girl.

«_A lot of people are staring at her. That includes me. I bet the noise level drops around her as well, because people are amazed speechless. I need to get moving, I don't want to miss any of my art class. Damn, I want her as a model. Her legs just wont stop. And topped by the finest ... what am I thinking?! Must be turpentine withdrawal._»

Jane continued towards the arts and craft section and noticed the tall girl heading for one of the science labs. A science lab surrounded by suspiciously many freshman, which made the girl seem even taller.

«_She can't be a freshman. She just can't be._»

A disturbed Jane Lane entered her art class and started mechanically to set up her equipment, wondering what was going on.

* * *

Ms. Li had informed the teachers about the tall female transfer students. She had explicitly reiterated the maxim to single no student out - and to limit any staring and the like. However, hearing about it and seeing the real thing are two different things, as Ms. Barch found out. When she had learned that one of the students would be in her science class today, she was resolved to act nonchalant. But seeing Quinn duck through the doorway made her gawk at the girl anyway. When she approached her, she started to feel small.

«_She's just a freshman, for heaven's sake!_»

"Are you Ms. Barch? Hello. I'm Quinn Morgendorffer and I've transferred in just today."

Standing about three feet away, Ms. Barch had to tilt her head back a little to look Quinn in the eyes.

«_That is going to take a while to get used to. Don't ask any stupid questions._»  
"Hello Quinn. I was told that I was going to have a new student. This is your set of text books, please sign for them over here."

Ms. Barch presented a ballpen and a form to Quinn after pointing at a stack of books. Watching Quinn bend over to sign the form on the teacher's desk, she took in Quinn's curves.

«_The desk looks so low compared to her. And she has the figure of at least a senior girl. That poor kid must be constantly approached by those lecherous male lowlifes. At her age, she'll be a helpless prey to those bastards. I'll have to protect her innocence by all means. I should ask her to attend my 'Take back the Night' class!_»

"There, done. Where'll I be seated?"

More students entered the room, most of them taking a double take at Quinn who towered beside Ms. Barch.

«_The unassigned seat in the center is not going to work. No one behind her will be able to see the chalkboard properly. Not that any of those primitive dickheads is going to pay any attentionto the chalkboard if she's in the line of sight. Hmm..._»  
"Ah, let me take a look at the seating plan. We'll have to make some changes. You'll take the seat in the back row to the right of the center aisle."

She mentally redistributed the class' male students to ensure that they had no opportunity to act on their perverted thoughts during class.

While Quinn walked towards her assigned seat, she faced the class and observed their reaction. All boys were looking silently at her, with expressions from wonderment to intimidation. The girls looked as well, but were whispering among themselves. The boy whose seat she was to occupy had a pleased grin on his face as she approached him and he got a closer look at her. That grin, however, vanished as soon as he stood up and noticed that she was at least five inches taller than he was.

"Hey, you! Get away from the girl!"

Ms. Barch's voice reminded him that he was treading dangerous ground. With a shrieking voice she started to orchestrate the permutation, and since the male students complied without complaining, she finished the procedure right with the start-of-class bell.

Next to Quinn sat a girl with with brown hair done in pigtails, who looked unbelieving at the new arrival.

Stacy was in an uproar. Intimidated. The women was not a model, she was not the new secretary, she was a new student. A freshman. She was sitting right beside her. And suddenly hundreds of little tiny dayglow arrows seemed to point at Stacy's own imperfections. This news required an emergency meeting of the fashion club immediately after school, because her arrival would disturb the established pecking order to its core.

"OK. We've a new student among us. Her name is Quinn Morgendorffer, and she transferred in just today. Make her feel welcome at Lawndale High. And you males: eyes front!"

With those words Ms. Barch launched into her lecture on the electric field. Quinn took some notes, but carefully observed her class mates. Some girls were looking at her every now and then, and carefully whispering among themselves when Ms. Barch wasn't looking. It was not hard to guess what would be the topic of their discussion. But no boys were stealing glances at her, or talking or exchanging notes.

«_Strange, let's find out whats up with that...come on, write something on the board. Now!_»  
"Hi, I'm Quinn. What's up with the boys?"

The girl to her left startled a little, got wide eyed, immediately looked straight ahead and ignored her while edging to the left side of her seat to increase the distance between her and Quinn.

«_That went really well._» Quinn thought dejectedly before she redirected her attention at the lecture.

* * *

The break passed too fast for Daria's taste.

«_Unless she starts the real poking now, that went rather painless._»

Daria drained her cup, got up and refilled it while Ms. Mason scribbled away.

«_OK, Daria's problem is with herself, not with the others. And she's a smartass._»  
"Let's continue, Daria."

After Daria sat down, her pose was far less refined than it had been for the first part of the session. Ms. Manson took the lead again.

"I have some more questions, but I think they'll be much easier."

Daria felt mentally drained and just nodded.

"How is your relationship to your parents?"

"Normal, I think. Mom's ok but bugs me every now and then, but I think that is in the job description, and I get along well with dad."

«_Hmm, two alpha-females clashing a little?_»  
"How do you get along with Quinn?"

"Ok, I guess. Fine, as long as we ignore each other."

"And if you don't?"

"We can get along, but I think our interests are too different in order not to bore the other out of her skull."

"You think Quinn is boring?"

"Quinn's interests are boring. Fashion, dating, looking at cute things. With her modelling I see a little benefit in her occupation with fashion, but the rest... However, I think most people of our generation are that way."

Daria made some fuzzy gestures. The relationship to her sister was some of the few things that did not cause problems. Ms Manson appended 'Very judgemental' to her notes.

"Quinn told me you took martial arts classes a while ago?"

«_Good. She didn't get that right._»  
"Yes, it was a little over three years ago."  
«_...that I started._»

"Quinn didn't enjoy the physical training. How about you?"

"Those classes really improved my body coordination. You know, fast growth."

Daria gestured at her body and thought about the training's additional benefits for her mental balance.

"Oh, of course. You must be glad that you're finally full grown."

Daria nodded at Ms. Manson who looked at her over the rim of her glasses.

"That's a given."

"We haven't covered your father. You say you get along with him, so what do you do?"

"Mostly just hang out. Reading the newspaper. Cooking. Doing housework."  
«_And the fun things we did that made mom mad at us. I enjoyed that as much as dad, no matter what mom thought._»

"Anything else about your father?"

Daria shrugged, which seemed to fit her attitude.

"He has had a complicated childhood that he's never going to forget, but he goes to great lengths to make sure our family life is healthy."

Even if Daria never told it to her father she was really appreciating his efford.

"Ah, that's nice."

Ms. Manson glanced at the clock, and then at the sparse notes she had taken.

«_No severe contradictions to her sisters statements. That will do._»  
"I think we can end the interview now, we covered all important bases. I'll let you head out in a minute, but I think there is no point in sending you to class for the last 35 minutes of the day."

Daria saw a silver lining at the horizon.

«_Not bad. I can save the embarrassment for tomorrow._»

Ms. Manson filled in some form as she spoke.

"I think you'll have few problems while attending school here. However, ..."

«_I'm sure I'm so not going to like what's next._»

"...from what you told me it is obvious that you have some issues."  
«_Issues with authority, for example._»  
"LHS offers a special class for students with self-esteem and body image issues. It's a four week course an hour per day after school and you will really profit from attending it."  
«_It will give you enough time to think of the way you approach people - people like me._»

The silver lining turned out to be an optical illusion.

«_Ah, crap._»  
"This is not negotiable?"

"You have self-esteem issues that need to be attended. No."

Ms. Manson took some notes and Daria tried to come to terms with her predicament. Ms. Manson started to explain while still writing.

"The class' cycle starts today, so you'll need to stay in order to get it over with in a timely fashion. Here's a hall pass, you can head over to the class room immediately and wait there for thestart of the class. Your book should last that 40 minutes."

«_The 'administration' card - maybe..._»  
"What about my parents?"

"I'll have the office inform your parents immediately, and I will inform Mr. O'Neill about your addition to the class roster. And I'll make sure your sister is informed and gets home."

«_Last straw._»  
"What happens if my parents object?"

«_You still don't see who has more pull here, do you. Well, I can arrange another cycle for you later on..._»  
"Considering that it's for your benefit I doubt they will once **I** explained it to them."

"OK then."

Daria's small voice did not fit her large frame. She was not happy about getting an additional freak label stuck on to her, but being honest with herself she knew as well that she had still open issues. She would be the big freak anyway. Maybe it wouldn't matter at all.

"Here's a hall pass to head for the class room. I trust you to wait there without supervision until the class starts. Don't betray that. I'll inform everybody."

Daria accepted the paper and slid it into her backpack. She nodded at Ms. Manson and was not sure whether the trust was heartfelt or just a tactical maneuver to placate her. She got up as Ms. Manson's shuffling of papers made clear that the session was finished.

"Goodbye, Daria, and have a pleasant stay at LHS. And I want you to remember that it is my job to help students."

Ms. Manson's voice was saccharine.

«_Correct your attitude, or I'll help you find some real trouble._»

"Goodbye, Ms. Manson."  
«_Yes, and you really love your job. You just love to wield your shrink powers over the students' heads and beat them into nice tiny malleable proles. You're an ideal candidate for the MiniLove, did you already file your application?_»

Ms. Manson watched Daria leave the office.

«_She's smart, does not like authority. Need to keep an eye on her. I would feel safer if she had another body. Something petite, little more than 5' and around 105 pound. And the smarts to comply to her superiors. Yes, I would really like that._»

* * *

Daria closed the door to the office from the outside, and felt more relieved than she would have expected. The anger about the additional freak label did not subside, but faded a little into the background.

She had memorized the room number, and as LHS had a simple layout, locating the room was no problem. On the way through the empty hallways she stopped at a restroom she passed by and relieved herself from the water she had drunk during the interview. She checked herself in the mirror above the sink, and decided to quickly freshen her face.

She just left the restroom and continued on her way when somebody ran into her at a hallway crossing. The scrawny guy with hair as red as her sister's and lots of freckles just bounced off of her and fell to the floor.

"Here."  
He took the hand Daria offered him, got up without really looking at her and immediately made a beeline towards the boys rest room.

"Dude, I'm sorry, but I really really gotta go." were his words before the restroom door closed behind him.

«_That would be three, but he didn't say it either. Dad's going to win this one. I just didn't meet enough people today. Maybe I can double the bet for tomorrow - then I'll win for sure._»

Daria didn't stall on her way to the class room, and arrived shortly after at her destination. The room wasn't locked, so she entered, turn on the lights, and took a chair in the center of the room. She didn't feel like reading, so she just put her backpack on her desk, put her arms around it and slumped over it, using it as a pillow to relax until this class began. Some of her hairs got stuck somewhere on her jacket, so she removed the hair band holding her brown mane in its small ponytail and used her hands to brush it free.

With her face shielded by her arms and her hair from the ceiling lights she nodded a bit and contemplated the day. It really nagged her to be forced into this class. Her physique made her enough of an outcast, she didn't need her psyche to add to that. She was a little angry with herself that the shrink had been able to maneuver her into such a position. She was really cunning. Why did this of all schools to have a psychologist with a power complex? She got little more agitated, and started to think of other things to calm herself.

The new home's kitchen was nice. Much bigger than the old one, and the appliances were much better. Cooking there would be more enjoyable. She suspected she'd to be cooking far more often than in the old home. With mom's new job she would be home even less than before. And as her cooking was the most agreeable, it was highly probable that she would have to feed the household.

«_Maybe I can work out a deal with mom and dad for a car once I turn 16. I'll need to shop for groceries. And I'll cook only on the condition that I get a say in the shopping. Otherwise it's going to be kitchen sink stew every day._»

* * *

Before Ms. Manson handed her reports on the new students to the secretary for filing, she entered Ms. Li's office to report to her first. This was always wise in case of required corrections to the facts.

"Ah, Ms. Manson. You've finished assessing the new students?"

"Yes, but it took a little longer than I planned."

"My guess would be the Morgendorffer girls, but go ahead."

Ms. Manson knew that Ms. Li did not like people who wasted her time, so she got right to the point.

"You're right. I'll make the rest short. The other four students were normal: disoriented, demotivated and dejected. They will fit nicely into our student body. One boy likely does some weed, I think I smelled some of that stuff on his clothes. Why do kids wear such baggy sacks today? Anyway, he seemed harmless so I just sent him to the self-esteem class for further monitoring."

Having drug sniffing dogs on the premises made sure that the school did everything to shield the students from that problem. Ms. Le knew that they would just toke up elsewhere. And elsewhere was someone else's problem - not hers.

"Well, the stoners don't cause any trouble as long as they do not bring anything on school premises. And hardly ever complain about anything. If they'd be a lot more motivated and willing to work, they would be decent students. The Morgendorffer girls are really impressive, aren't they?"

Ms. Manson worked through the list she had mentally prepared before entering the office.

"Indeed, they really stick out. Both well above six foot, and they look very mature for their age. They are a mixed bag. Both are not entirely happy with their body, but who is. Quinn, the younger one, has adjusted quite well and I don't expect any trouble from her. The older one, Daria, however has at least a problem with authority. I sent her to self-esteem class just for stubborn self-determined behavior during the interview. She clearly needs an attitude adjustment."

"It's a pity the PTA did not approve the electro shock therapy, that would have made dealing with those cases much easier. And I already had a really good deal with the FSB for some second hand devices. Well, the THz imaging devices weren't bad either. Did you know Coach Gibson has a pacemaker and Ms. Barch wears a loop?"

That was rather interesting information, but Ms. Manson would not dare to blab that tidbit. She did neither know nor dare to find out what Ms. Li's records contained on herself.

"Ae, no. TMI. Well, about Daria. She's smart, but the threat with involving her parents worked. I have the distinct feeling should keep an eye on her. And she's really intimidating, physique-wise. We should make sure she's occupied with something. Sports?"  
«_Football. As team mascot. Chained to the wall of the boys' locker room._»

"Of course! That would distract her, consume her energy, and depending on her abilities, could bring glory to Laaaaaaawndale High."

Ms. Manson knew Ms. Li's way to run things. Making suggestions to Ms. Li's liking was not difficult.

"But I suggest we set up something that makes her resort to violence, and withhold the evidence - just in case. And we should make sure that she does not team up with that Lane girl. That would be troubling."

"Well, seeing that, sending her to self-esteem class was not a smart move."

"Hm, why? We have her under close monitoring there. She should be in class already."

Ms. Li gave a wicked little smile. Ms. Manson had made another slip. Another entry in Ms Li's little black book.

"Yes. But the Lane girl starts her seventh cycle today. This makes sure they meet, and given their dispositions, this increases the likelihood of them teaming up dramatically."

"Darn. I missed that."  
«_This is so going to come back and bite me. Either by Daria, or by Ms. Li. Or by both._»

Ms. Li decided to calm Ms. Manson. Really frightened employees weren't as productive as the ones just intimidated.

"We can't change that anymore. And it is just one alternative of many. Maybe Daria was just defensive."

"Hmm, possible. She's a loner. Maybe she'll just stick to herself and keep her head low. Well. As much as is possible for her."

That said, Ms. Manson looked at Ms Li who dismissed her with just a nod.

* * *

Jane Lane put her easel back into the storage room as another much-too-brief art class ended. The unknown tall students had been the single topic of all the chatter during class, but even the rumor mill had no information beyond 'a boy and a girl, tall and hot'. She left the class without her usual talk with Ms. DeFoe, the art teacher, in order to move to her seventh cycle in the self-esteem class.

«_I'm sure I know the text as well as Mr. O'Neill himself._»

The hallways had cleared quickly after the last bell. The jocks headed to their training, and all sane students home, or to work, or in general anywhere else but school. Some clubs had their meetings, but generally the school was empty. And the school psychos gathered in the self-esteem class.

When she entered the class room, she could not believe her eyes. The tall cutie sat at a desk in the center of the room, slumped over his backpack. His hair was free and covered his face.

«_Thank you God, Allah, Buddha, Yahweh, Great Green Arkleseizure and whatever else is out there. Thanks for that first-row seat. I'll never get a better chance!_»

* * *

Through her half closed eyes under her hair Daria watched the first other students arrive at the class room. The students distributed themselves equidistantly in the class room.

«_Like electrons on a conducting plane. Welcome to Losers Anonymous, my name is Daria and I'm a loser. What a BS._»

A girl hurriedly entered the room, looked around and purposeful occupied the seat immediately behind her. It wouldn't be long until the brainwashing would commence.

«_Is that all I am good for - visual cover?_»

* * *

Jane made a beeline for the unoccupied seat directly behind him. Which regulars would show up again and which wouldn't, what new freaks would be there as involuntary models for sketching and whether Mr. O'Neill would tell something different this time didn't matter to Jane anymore. Her seventh cycle through self-esteem class had suddenly became a huge success.

«_What is he doing here? Hmm, I think they prescribed him an attitude adjustment. Maybe too much of an outsider. Kind of like me. He could be a little on the wild side. Or just stubborn. I bet things are never boring around him. I could really like that._»

Jane smirked inwardly as she took his body in. On autopilot she had fetched her sketchbook and a pencil from her bag and filled a page with a study of his prone form. His hair was brown, thickish and had a pleasant natural wave in it. It hid his face efficiently, but she could spot an earpiece of a pair of glasses poking out of his hairdo.

«_Not long enough to be really girly, but longer than most guys are comfortable with. Well, barring those shags some of the metal heads wear. Yuk. I suppose pulled back with a hair-band as it has been before lunch it won't even hinder him at sports._»

Jane's thoughts were interrupted by Mr. O'Neill entering the classroom with some notes under his arm. He wore his usual friendly-colored shirt, slacks and his permanent saccharine smile. On that, the boy sat up and with swift, gracile motions of his hands pulled his hair back and fixed it with his black hair-band that he had secured around his left wrist. Sitting directly behind him, Jane wasn't able to catch a glimpse of his face.

«_Whow! For any girl that is one of the ultimate 'come hither' routines. Welllll, it's working on me. Maybe he has a sister he took lessons from. 'Ten perfect ways to lure a guy into a trap – but they work on girls as well. Bisexual beckonings, next on Sick, Sad World'_»

"Welcome to our self-esteem class students! In this class we'll explore our feelings and discover a whole new world!"

Mr. O'Neill started the class as usual. The guy fetched something from his backpack, likely a notepad and a pen.

* * *

«_That guy is talking complete and utter gibberish. 'Realizing your actuality'. I have no clue what could be important and what not. And his voice is so...calming. He should market recordings against insomnia. This sounds so damn memorized, I bet it's straight out of some psych book. A yellow 'Teenagers' psychosis for dummies'. I'd better search for it to get a real chance to pass the test the first time._»

Daria took some more notes of extremely prolific phrases that should give her enough hints to dig out the book. Looking at the two other students in her direct field of vision she concluded that further attention was not required and tuned the man's voice out and began to reminisce about the summer gone by and the things she had seen.

* * *

Jane finished another sketch, depicting him from behind throwing a javelin. It looked like a greek statue, and was of course nude as a greek statue. And it gave a pretty good impression what he could look like under his clothes.

«_OK then. Staring at him will give me some nice ideas for tonight, but not help in the long run. I need to do something to get his attention before the girls line up. What's the worst that could happen? A 'Sorry, but I already have a girlfriend. Now get lost.' would be unpleasant, but... Even if I can't catch him, I could still be his friend. Maybe he can introduce me to another guy like him._»

Jane thought for a while what kind of note to write.

«_A simple 'Hi!'? How creative. 'Hi, I've all the answers to the exam, like my help?' Sounds like a total brainiac. He's likely to have girls all over him. I need to stick out of the crowd. I need to write something that proudly says 'Jane Lane'. Artistic. Rebellious. Hmmm. A little provoking ..._»

Jane was happy with her work. Writing had never been one of her strong points. But this would definitely start a conversation between them, and give her a head start over all other girls to get to know him. The choice of words would be explained and accredited to her artistic expression.

* * *

A further while into the class Daria was disturbed in her thoughts by something poking into her back. Given its flexibility and the faint sounds it emitted, it was most likely a note. Unsure about the local tolerance for note passing and the like, she pondered what to do. The lack of reaction from the guy mad Jane nervous.

«_Come on, take it. It's likely neither a bomb nor anthrax laced! Don't be one of these brainwashed rule abiding fellow travellers trying to stick to every rule ever uttered. You're to big too successfully brown nose..._»

Openly accepting it was no option for Daria. Ignoring it was, well, safe but impolite. So she opted for a stealth approach. Once Mr O'Neill's attention was focussed to the far side of the classroom, she brought her arm behind her back and presented to Jane's relief an open palm.

«_Ah, here we go. Look at that paw. I bet he gives massages like a pro. Pleaseplease pretty please..._»

Daria carefully brought her hand to her front. The note still hidden, she wondered if she had done a smart thing. Gathering her courage, Daria waited for an opportunity to read the letter unnoticed by the teacher.

«_Please, no profession of undying love. No 'Get lost freak!'. A simple 'Hi, what's your name I'm ...' please._»

The note, however, read 'Hi hunk, I'm Jane Lane. Have a vacancy for a cute and flexible girlfriend? XXX'.

The lines barely covered the blunt proposition, but despite her reputation Jane was not the kind of girl that was engaging in activities involving flexibility. Well, not yet. But she really enjoyed the window shopping, and she was currently working hard to get her hand on a bargain deal. She observed his reaction closely, as he read the lines.

Daria groaned mentally. «_'Hunk'. Two. And this one I have in writing. Foxtrot Uniform Charlie Kilo._»

Daria felt her anger rising. She hated being mistaken for a boy. Not for the fact, but for the hurt. And that did hurt. The first contact during a 'regular' class, and the same old story again. Quinn would never have to bear this. That hussy behind her couldn't even have seen her face. She started to control herself. Blowing up wouldn't do any good. The girl had for sure no ill intent. And was in for a rude awakening herself.

Jane was not sure about his non-reaction. He didn't even turn around to evaluate the goods offered. But he didn't laugh either.

«_He can't be gay! That would be such a waste! That would be divine injustice for womankind! Maybe he's thinking of a polite refusal. Or mentally shuffling his dates to fit me in._»

Daria fit the pieces together. 'Jane Lane' was the name of the black haired, lanky girl that occupied the seat behind her. And she likely hadn't picked that seat for visual cover, but for a close view.

«_Sorry to ruin your imagination._»

Jane Lane considered herself cute and was rather straight forward. She was obviously not in this class for any self-esteem issues. She said she was flexible, but her tall look did not fit a gymnast. More likely somebody from track-and-field. Daria couldn't recall much more, she hadn't paid enough attention.

«_That's some mighty bold proposition. Aren't you afraid that you could be called on it as bluntly?_»

While Mr. O'Neill droned on, Daria worked on a soft way to let this Jane Lane down, and what she'd to tell a psychologist about this episode.

Jane's anxiety rose by the minute.

* * *

"Now, guys, I've got a little challenge for you. Today we talked about turning your daydreams into reality. Tonight, I want each one of you to go home and do just that. What do you say? Um... you."  
Mr O'Neill said and pointed at Daria.  
"What's a daydream that you'd like to see come true?"

"Well, I guess I'd like my whole family to do something together."

Jane Lane was too occupied with her own thoughts to really hear the boy's voice when he answered. She became alert, maybe she'd get another chance.

"Excellent!"

"Something that'll really make them suffer."

His voice was not as deep as Jane expected, but while it was soft, its presence filled the room. Still, something stroke Jane as odd. Maybe he had a cold. No kissy-kissy tonight. At least he had her sense of humor, and enough backbone to voice it.

"Uh... it's healthy to air these feelings... I think. We'll talk more about this tomorrow. Class dismissed."

Mr O'Neill ended the class right on the bell, collected his notes and followed the quicker students outside. Daria steeled herself for the things to come.

«_No use in stalling this. I really hate to do this. Every time._»

In exception to her usual habits, Jane did not hightail out of the class room, but remained seated and watched the boy putting his things into his backpack. As he rose, Jane rose as well.

«_Time for the truth. Pretty please, all you higher beings. Let him say yes, and I'll sacrifice you a pizza as a burnt offering. A fresh one, not one of those out of the back of our freezer. Hell, just don't let him say No._»

As the boy rose, it hit Jane how tall he really was. Taller than Jesse, taller than Trent. Compared to him, Trent was a stick. And then he turned. His army jacket, covered the most impressive set of pecs Jane had come across so far.

«_Wait a minute..._»

"Look, Jane Lane. My name is Daria, and beside this sorry excuse for a class we have two more things in common: We're both girls and we both like boys. Good luck applying elsewhere."

Daria delivered her explanation with practiced ease, turned, and set course for home. Watching the puzzlement of those who were mistaken had lost its novelty a long time ago. Having to repeat what she'd say was not exactly exciting either. And the usual lame excuses did nothing for her.

«_Quinn, thank the gods that you'll never have to go through this. This is so humiliating it hurts._»

Deep in thought Daria left the school's premises and walked home.

* * *

Jane Lane was rooted to the floor. Her mind had acquired some information, but refused to process it and thus stalled all higher brain functions. After her brain rebooted itself, Jane noticed that she was the last person in the class room. Even he was gone. She. What had happened? Jane opted to deal with it her usual way. Run home. Change. Run some more. She was good at running away problems.

* * *

The Fashion Club after school emergency meeting was in full swing. Stacy had initiated the phone conference as soon as she arrived home to inform her fellow club members of her new findings about the tall girl. The fact that she was in freshman class made an impact like a bomb. This was so in violation of all known laws of nature.

"Her name's Quinn. Quinn Morgensomething. A very unusual name."

"Gee, Stacy, that's not a very unusual name, but a very uncute name. Is her face equally uncute?"

"No, Sandi, she's so, like, perfect. Flawless, even complexion with small pores. A cute nose. Sparsely but skillfully applied makeup. And her hair color is natural, I couldn't spot any roots showing."

"Sheeee was soooo taaaaall." Tiffany stated the obvious.

Stacy hurried to give more precise information.  
"Yes, Ms. Barch had to take a step back to be able to look her properly in the eyes. And when she walked over, I felt soooo small. She must be 6'2", may be even more!"

"Ah, Stacy, for sure you overlooked the heels she was wearing. Like those four inch heels those streetside workers wear. Not that I'd know what they look like."

"No, Sandi, she wasn't even wearing any heels, just plain sneakers. But her legs go on, like, for miles. And...and...and..."

Once she started to sound like a broken record, Stacy needed to be nudged like one - and Sandi was happy to do so.  
"Yes Stacy. I don't have, like, time all day. Tell us, or is your memory deteriorating?"

"...her figure." Stacy said in a small voice.

"Stacy, would you please tell us your findings and not waste my time."

"Her figure's so perfect. So mature. At least like a senior girl. The distinct hips that have a perfect sway as she walks. Her breasts are prominent, but not ostentatious. And the perfect curves in between."

Sandi knew that Stacy had to be exagerating, and only one possible reason came to her mind.  
"What, Stacy, are you going to tell me that you're switching teams next?"

Ever since a girl had made a rather blunt pass at her, lesbianism was nothing Tiffany would tolerate.  
"Ewwww, Stacy. That is sooooo unfashionable."

"NO! Of course I'm not ... that. But I felt so inferior."

Sandi was not sure what to make of Stacy's description. Stacy felt inferior to about everybody. And that Quinn girl having a senior girl's figure did not matter either. Even if she had been only two weeks at Lawndale High she had decided that none of the senior girls did measure up to her. And those guys who would prefer one of the senior girls over the Fashion Club weren't dateworthy to begin with.

"Gee Stacy, you make it sound as if we should consider her as a potential member of the Fashion Club. That is something that I'll have to evaluate carefully."

"Anoooother member?" Tiffany asked, knowing that Sandiconsidered her expandeble.

Stacy was happy that Sandi made the suggestion that she had not dared to make.  
"YES! I mean, yes Sandi. We should consider this. Wouldn't it be nice to have another girl to discuss current fashions with?"

"Well, Stacy, I'll have to see for myself if your eyes didn't deceive you. Any further findings?"

"Yes, Sandi. She tried to talk to me. She asked about boys..."

"Of course she did. With a degenerated body like that she is likely to get no dates at all. I mean, what sane boy would date a lamp post? Are there any news on the guy we spotted this morning?"

"The taaall one" Tiffany said dreamily.

"No, Sandi. He was seen taking the tour with the group of new students, but I have heard nothing about him attending any classes or anything else." Stacy reported as was her duty.

"That is not much information, but I believe I can not expect any better from you, Stacy. Anything else? No? OK, lets do an additional color coordination meeting tomorrow before school at the usual time and place. Meeting adjourned."

Sandi smiled a little at herself as she put the phone down. Maybe somebody had arrived that was an opponent - not a victim. She had ordered her troops to stand by so she would be ready to face her down.

* * *

Quinn went home alone. She and Daria had forgotten to arrange a meeting point and time for this, so she had waited 5 minutes at the school's main exit. Someone from the office informed Quinn that Daria would be late, and had told her to go home alone.

The strange girl from her science class left the room at the sound of the bell like greased lightening. Quinn was sure she hadn't offended her, so maybe she was just shy. She gave that vibe. Her other classmates had stared at her, but steered clear of her. At least after the the teacher left the class room, some of the boys looked at her as she left the room.

«_What a weird day. I didn't get a chance to talk to Daria after she took that stupid psych test. Well, a test is a test and Daria outsmarted the quack for sure. With the older students around high school feels much more comfortable than middle school. I don't stick out as much. It's bad in my freshman class though. And Daria didn't pave the way for me as she did in middle school. She had the undivided attention as the school freak back then. Well, she dealt well with it._»

Arriving home, Quinn noted the empty driveway. Despite their promise to be home when the girls came in from their first day at the new school both of her parents were still at work. She unlocked the door and entered her still unfamiliar new home. After hanging up her coat she put her backpack down at the bottom of the stairs and headed over to the kitchen. Rummaging through the well stocked refrigerator she picked up a ultra low fat yoghurt and ate it in silence at the kitchen counter. The locked door, and the missing jacket hinted at Daria still being away.

Daria was still not home when she heard her mother's urban assault vehicle arrive in the driveway.

"Hello girls, I'm back. Sorry I'm late, but the traffic's much worse than I expected. I bet your father has the same problem."

"Hi mom."

"Ah Quinn. How was your first day at high school?"

Helen put down her handbag on the counter and slipped out of her heeled shoes.

"OK, I guess. I only attended a single real class. We first got a tour of the school by the principal and than had to talk to the school psychologist which was totally pointless. The class was unfamiliar, and the girl I tried to talk to wouldn't talk back so I think she's shy. Besides I got stared at a lot."

"Well, that was to be expected. It's the same as it was with Daria in middle school. How are you faring?"

"No problems so far. I had minimal interaction with the other students, and they just asked the obvious 'How tall are you?'. The secretary is a little slow, she mistook Daria for a boy even though she had her records at hand."

"Ah, that's bad, Daria doesn't take that well. I bet she bet with your Dad on it, didn't she... Where's Daria?"

"She's not home yet, we forgot to agree to meet after school and I didn't spot her at the main gate, so I walked home alone. Someone from the office said she would be late."

"Did you check the answering machine?"

"Aeh, no. I forgot, the house's still so unfamiliar."

As expected, the answering machine was flashing. Helen played back the single message and walked back into the kitchen.

"That was your principal. Daria has to take a self-esteem course after school. I was hoping she was beyond that stage. And they asked for an OK for you to participate in PE. I'm going to write you a 'OK' slip later on, Quinn."

«_I knew it._»  
"Maybe Daria just pissed the shrink off."

"Quinn, language! Four years ago I would have been sure. But now ... I just don't know about her. Well, she didn't get into any trouble and maybe it will help her a little. Maybe she can make some friends there."

"Who knows that kind of psychos are collected there. What's for dinner, mom?"

"Hmm, I'm too exhausted to start any serious cooking and Daria and Jake are late. I guess I'll just put one of these frozen lasagnas into the oven."

Quinn smiled inwardly. That was the most serious cooking her mother had been doing ever sice Daria had joined in on her father's cooking adventures. And in contrast to her father, Daria produced quite tasty meals. A little too rich for Quinn's taste, but she simply ate what she liked.

"I'm going upstairs, mom. I'll have a look at mynew textbooks - I need to make up for the last two weeks."

"I'll call you for dinner, sweety."

* * *

A tall glass of tap water in her hand, a freshly showered Jane sat at the Lane's kitchen table and stared off into space. She prefered OJ after a run, but there wasn't any in the fridge. Her training gave her time to process the day's events. She had seriously drooled after a girl. There was no way of denying that. And she couldn't even get the images out of her mind after she found out the 'he' was a 'she'. She remembered her brief and concise statement only in pieces. She had said her name, but Jane could not recall it.

She could however recall clearly the impressive chest that had presented her as the girl turned towards her. And Jane still was curious what it would feel like under her fingers. Or those eyes, that had seemed to look straight into her soul. Those lips, that seemed so kissable.

«_God damn it, Jane. A Girl a girl a girl. You need a guy for those kind of activities. Even if she looks like a guy, she's still a girl. And you like boys. And she does, too. I remember she said that._»

Later Trent entered the kitchen and headed to the fridge. He noted Jane, but she sat unmovingly at the table, most likely beat from her run. Opening the fridge he noted its state. Empty. Uhoh, he had been supposed to get groceries today.

No run could exhaust Jane enough to stop her from chewing him out for not doing this chore. He noted the water in her glass. Jane was obviously troubled. He sat down at the table across from her and watched her for a while.

"Fridge's empty."

"Hmmm."

"Band practice was intense. I forgot."

"Hmmm."

Trent provided an opening for Jane to open up. She would have to do the rest. He continued to watch her to spot any hints indicating her predicament. The absence of tear marks and red eyes somewhat relieved him.

"There was a new guy at school today."

Jane was opening up. However, he'd never seen her so troubled by guy problems up to now. As her brother, he didn't like guys around her, but he knew...

"A total hunk. Tall. Broad shoulders. Dreamy hair. Wicked appearance. Sweet voice. Material from a dream. A wet dream. He's in self-esteem class as well."

Trent smiled a little. Jane just had it bad. He couldn't wait to see the paintings and sketches to come. Jane stood up, walked over to her backpack that was slumped at the bottom of the stairs and retrieved her sketchbook. She opened it to the sketches she did in self-esteem class and tossed it over to Trent. He looked at it, and accredited the greek statue to Jane's vivid imagination.

"I had the perfect chance and made a pass at him. A little blunt."

Trent's smile instantly dropped from his face. He became alert, as he feared the possible implications. Jane noted his reaction.

"Nothing happened. How could it? He was a she."

Trent raised an eyebrow. He would have laughed at it if it wasn't troubling Jane.

"I drooled all day over a girl. And made a very blunt proposition at her."

"It was a mistake."

"Yes. No. Maybe."

Trent waited for Jane to continue.

"I like guys. I know she's a girl. But I still want to know how it feels to be hold in those strong arms. Feel those glorious pecs. Argh, tits, tits, tits. God,I'm so disturbed."

Trent was not impressed. When he had been rummaging through the attic some years ago he had come across some pictures his father had taken during his parents' hippie days. Pictures that no child should ever be exposed to. He knew for sure that his mother had been 'sexually non preferential'. He was open about these things. If Jane's nature was that way, so be it.

"Look, you're upset. You had high hopes, tried, things didn't work out. Sleep on it, and rethink it tomorrow."

"Sleeping is your solution to everything, Trent! God, I'll never be able to look her straight in the eyes."

«_What must the girl feel like - being mistaken for a guy, and bluntly propositioned. But Jane doesn't need that guilt right now. Maybe I can distract her a little. Change the subject - with a hammer..._»

"The fridge's still empty. I'm gonna ride to Food Lord. Wanna tag along?"

Jane sighed and considered Trent's offer. His try at distracting her was obvious, but working. She needed to get her mind of the whole mess.

"Yeah. At least then I can make sure you're buying what you're supposed to. And that you don't fall asleep testing the demonstration lawn chairs."

"Hey, that only happened once!"

"Right, right. Get your stuff, we'll head out. By the way, we'll stop for pizza on the way back and you're gonna pay."

«_This is better. Much better._»  
"Janey, I..."

"You forgot, you pay."

Jane and Trent rode in silence. Currently just being there for her was the best thing he could do. A sexuality crisis. Why did he have to deal with that - this was his parents' job. But a job they didn't care about. The memories from the visit to the OB/GYN still haunted Trent. Janey had gotten her first period, nobody beside him had been around, and being male he had had not the slightest clue what to do. So he had taken her to the doctor. A 18 year old guy with a 12 year old girl visit the OB/GYN. He could still fell the stares. He had expected to be arrested as soon they left the doctor's practice. After being tarred and feathered. But Janey was well.

* * *

As Daria arrived at her new home, both of her parents' cars stood in the driveway. There was a garage, but it was still filled with boxes that nobody cared to unpack since the move a week ago. Daria was not sure how her parents would react on her late arrival and felt a little uneasy as she opened the door and announced her presence.

"I'm home. Hi mom, dad, Quinn."

Daria hung up her jacket as the salutations emerged from the kitchen. She put her backpack down at the bottom of the staircase and entered the kitchen.

"Hi sweety, you're back!"

Her mother was by the oven looking at something inside, while her father set the table. Quinn was out of sight.

"Sorry I'm late mom, but ..."

"They put you in the self-esteem class after a psyche test. There was a call on the answering machine, so we didn't have to worry. Want to tell me about it?"

"At least you didn't get into any trouble." her father chimed in.

"Hmm, maybe later at the table. I won't have to tell things twice that way. Dad?"

Daria fished two crumpled five dollar bills from her wallet that she took out of the back pocket of her jeans. The thought of lying and pocket a tenner never crossed her mind.

"Here's your ten. You've won. Two exactly. And one I got in writing."

"That's ... great kiddo."  
Jake knew it was not, but he had won anyway.

«_Kiddo my ass._»  
"It wasn't exactly fair. I wasn't in any regular class today, so I had next to no exposure. Double the bet for tomorrow?"

"Ok, you're on."  
Jake was not happy about it, but it would provide him with another opportunity to sneak Daria a 10 without giving Helen the opportunity to object.

"Jake. Daria. You know I do not like you gambling. Especially on such matters. Daria, Quinn told me about that stupid secretary, but what do you mean by 'in writing'."

"Hold a second, mom."

Daria retrieved the note from her jacket's pocket. She had not had the nerve to throw it away. And she somehow admired the artsy bluntness of the note. She handed it over the kitchen counter to her mother.

"Oh, dear. That is rather..."

"Let me put it this way. If I were into girls, I would have gotten lucky tonight."

Quinn had heard the increase in conversation downstairs and came down on her own, expecting her sister to be back. Daria's last statement was the first she could make out clearly.

"How's that?" she asked from the bottom of the stairs and walked over to her mother, who still held on to the note. Quinn read it over her mother's shoulder, which was an easy feat for her even though her mother was standing upright.

"Oh. Whoa. I always thought just guys would be so..." That Jane Lane gal had some nerve. She'd have a serious talk with her.

"How did you react?" Helen asked Daria. She didn't need her daughter to scare people on the first day at school.

"I got the note during class, so I had plenty of time to think of an answer. I just pointed the facts out to her. You know I hate doing this."

"Was she cute?"

Quinn's question sidetracked Daria. She had hardly looked at this Jane Lane. What was Quinn trying to get at? She shrugged.

"I dunno. Didn't really look at her."

"What else is this self-esteem class about?"

Helen tried to keep the conversation on track as long as Daria was in a particularly communicative mood.

"The teacher recites some feel-good babble from some book he memorized. Today was about 'actualizing your reality.'. Or was it 'realizing your actuality'? Something along those lines."

«_And I have no idea what reality he is from..._»

"And why did you get sent there? You do not exactly lack self-esteem and are quite able to assert yourself."

"You know my dislike for shrinks. I guess my lack of cooperation ticked that quack a little. I told her as little as possible."

"'Lack of cooperation', Daria?"

«_Mom does not need to know all the details._»  
"She had to point to the county's regulations to make me talk. And I stuck to the bare essentials."

"I still don't see the problem."

"I think her problem is that I think by myself and don't simply do as I'm told to."

"Are you sure, Daria?"

Jake knew that his daughter was not free of psychological issues. Maybe that school shrink had better instincts than Daria expected.

"Completely sure. You know I had my fill of talks with shrinks. I know the experts' opinion is that my 'body image' is not well, but I also know that I do not lack self-esteem."

«_Well, that's you all right, but..._»

"Hmm, if you are sure that is a ridiculous reason to send you to some class that is of no use for you? I can call that principal and ..."

«_Hell no!_»  
"Mom. No. No way. Look, it might be unfair, andyour offer is well-meant. But I'd rather sit through that course before I got another label stuck to me. Please."

«_That's you as well: Endure in silence. I expected you to have learned a different lesson in the past._»  
"Well, Daria, that's up to you, but you're wasting your time in that class. And sending you there as a punishment is wrong to begin with. Do you really not..."

"No mom. Please."

"Maybe she can even learn a little bit in that course, Helen. And it's not like it's going to make things worse."

«_I wonder if you would accept the help if the offer came from your father..._»  
"Well, it's your choice and your time. I think you should really consider lying through your teeth as an option when it comes to situations like that. You are smart enough to pull it off."

«_Uhoh, Helen, that was not ..._»

"You know I despise lying, mom."

"I know. And you made your trade-off. Four weeks after school classes instead of lying."

"Well, I really should consider it. I don't have to start making a living of it."

«_Ouch, that could get ugly. Helen, why do you poke Daria when she is irked already?_»  
"Quinn, what people did you meet during your first class in high school?"

"I tried to talk to the girl beside me in science class. She was really cute and I thought we could be friends. But she clammed up, so I guess she is shy. That class was generally weird. All the guys just sat there like statues..."

As Quinn prattled on, Jake went over to Daria, put a hand on her shoulder and looked her in the eyes. Hurt. Anxiety. He just saw it.

"It's going to work out. Just give them some time." Jake muttered to comfort Daria before he returned to the table. Quinn looked sadly at the scene, but went on.

The dinner was unspectacular. Quinn and Daria told about the school's facilities, and Daria did not fail to mention the existence of the gym to her parents and announced she would be checking it out.

«_I knew you would not let me get out of my excercise. With mom and dad primed, it's a done deal._»

Daria complained about the quality of the school's cafeteria food, and hinted at preparing a lunch at home if the first day indicated the permanent quality. Quinn felt seriously relieved. If Daria did it for herself, she would not get around preparing a lunch for Quinn as well. And Daria's food was good.

Helen and Jake told about their first day at work, and the lasagna was finished quickly. As the conversation continued, Jake stood up and got himself a can of beer from the fridge. After he closed the door, he squinted at the family planner that was affixed to its front. He reopened the fridge and got another can out, put both on the counter top and wrote something on the planner. Helen glared at him as he popped one of the cans and took a swig. He walked back to the table and put the second can in front of Daria.

"Helen, she's had a hard day. Her last one was more than three weeks ago."

Jake sat down again, and Helen knew that the final word on that matter had been spoken.

"Thanks Dad."

Quinn watched Daria reach for the beer.  
«_Yeah, and my day was all fun and giggles, Daddy, so **I** don't need any comfort..._»

Daria popped the can as well and took a little swig. Then she got up and began loading the dishwasher. With the convenience food, this task was completed in an eyeblink. Meanwhile Quinn excused herself to her room, and so did Daria once the kitchen looked decent again while her parents gently talked among themselves. Her beer in hand she stopped upstairs by Quinn's room, knocked and entered the pink universe. It was a mystery to her where Quinn had located a canopy bed in extra long. She wordlessly offered the can to Quinn, knowing that it was not smart to hog such privileges. Especially as long as Quinn declined to take her up on the offer.

"Eww. That stuff is so gross."  
Nevertheless Quinn valued the gesture.

"Tomorrow is going to suck. Big time. Be prepared."

That warning told, Daria closed the door and retreated into her room. She had successfully defended it against any remodelling. The padded walls that had been installed to accommodate a schizophrenic woman seemed appropriate for her own state of mind. She swapped her boots for some slippers and spent the rest of the evening sorting through the boxes that still hadn't been unpacked since the move. Sorting her underwear took a while, but putting her books in the shelves was worse. She contemplated booting up her computer and writing a little, but her mind was not into it. So she chose to go to bed early, relax a little and then sleep. She would have to get up a little earlier tomorrow, as her dad would not give them a ride. Daria's sleep that night was uneasy.


	2. Chapter 2 Right and Wrong

**Size does matter - Chapter 2**

**by HawkingRadiation  
**(aka BlackHole at PPMB, SFMB)**  
**

Story (c)2008 by HawkingRadiation/BlackHole  
Daria and associated characters are (c)2008 MTV Networks

* * *

Right and Wrong

Daria prepared for school. Packing her P.E. stuff she wondered how that class would work out. Downstairs Helen and Jake rushed through the final stages of their morning preparations, guzzling down coffee ('Gah! Dammit, hot!') and collecting files. Daria poured herself a nice bowl of cereal with milk and a glass of OJ to get herself started for her day.

Helen announced that she would have her first day in court today, just as a visitor to get to know the judges and so on, and therefore did not know when she would be back in. Jake, however, said that he just had some interviews for the part time secretary during the morning at the office, and would likely be back home in the early afternoon after he ran some errands for his office.

Quinn came down just in time to say goodbye toJake and Helen, who mounted their vehicles and left. Daria addressed her sister immediately afterwards.

"I'm going to leave a little early. I'm not ready to face the masses yet."

"You can't hide forever, Daria."  
Quinn said between the bites she took from an apple.

"I know. I just hope...you know. I'm off. See you later."

That said, Daria left and walked through the pleasant October sun towards Lawndale High. Today she would stick to the main road, but from tomorrow on she would look for a quieter and maybe shorter path to school.

* * *

Sandi Griffin rode her convertible with the top down to enjoy the last rays of sunshine the year offered. The installed wind deflector ensured that her carefully styled hair did not get messed up by the draft.

«_Look at that loser walking ... hold it._»

Green army jacket, dark trousers, tall. Sandi was sure and slowed her approach. That was the new guy she had gotten a glimpse at yesterday, before he had vanished into the building. Sandi slowed down to bit above a pedestrian's pace about eighty yards behind him to get a closer look. The reddish morning sun brought out some really red highlights in his brown wavey hair, which was well kept for a guy. He walked with a sure walk, and even if his butt ugly clothing hid most of his figure, it was clear that he had much to offer in that department.

The clothing could be exchanged easily, and her intuition was that his face would be sufficiently cute to match his body. This was a guy worthy to be seen with Sandi Griffin, the president of the Fashion Club. Sandi closed the distance between her and the guy, and as soon as she was level with him, she addressed him, diverting her attention between him and the road.

"Hey, you, like, the new guy. I'm Sandi Griffin, the president of the Lawndale High Fashion Club. I really like strong tall guys. Could you take me to an decent restaurant, I'm usually, like, hungry after school?"

«_One. Crap. And I haven't even made it to school yet._»  
"Me too. On both accounts."

Sandi hit the brake and looked at the guy who stopped as well.  
"Ex-cuse me? What was that?"

Daria turned towards the girl, who sat in a yellow convertible, and elaborated her answer.  
"I like strong tall guys and am usually hungry after school as well."

"You're, like, gay?"  
Sandi was dejected. The guy had a soft face with full lips and a rather small nose for a guy. His complexion was even with not even a hint of beard. His pecs, hidden under the jacket, were spectacular, as far as Sandi could see from her car. If well behaved, a guy like him was a definite candidate for a steady date.

«_With that ego, there can't be any room for thoughts in her head. And now I'm gay_»  
"No. Look Sandi Griffin, president of the Lawndale High Fashion Club. We're both girls, and we both like guys. So let's get on with our lives."

Daria turned and continued on her way to school without looking back.  
«_That pass yesterday had at least some class, in a wicked sense._»  
Daria would have preferred to go home. But she knew it would be futile.

Sandi looked at the leaving figure. «_Soooo hot ... hold it. RIGHT NOW. SHE. Girl. Female. Unattractive.  
What is it with me?_»

Sandi noted the clock on the dashboard. She'd have to hurry to make it in time for the pre-school color coordination meeting of the Fashion Club.

* * *

Jane Lane hurried to pack her school things, trying not to forget anything important. She had not overslept since she had not slept at all. Her thoughts had been too busy processing the events of yesterday's afternoon. It took a pot of weapon grade coffee to get her going this morning, and her sleepy eyes spoke volumes. Luckily the Lane pantry was well stocked after the trip to the Food Lord the evening before. Trent's plan to distract her had worked pretty well. Until she was back alone in her room.

Her pondering had led to no solution. She liked guys, that she was sure of. She was attracted to the body she had seen, that was sure as well. And it did not matter to her if it was a boy's or a girl's body. That was something she needed to come to terms with.

The girl was likely a senior, likely related to that tall red head that had been in the tour group as well. Because of this Jane was unlikely to cross her path, and could stall any thoughts of how to act around her - after the incident the day before - until the issue arose. In self-esteem class.

* * *

Daria continued her trek to school. She really hated this. It would pass away, but she hated it anyway. She'd love to lose the bet she'd made with her dad. She'd always hated to be a weedy bookish wallflower and would have liked some of the attention her sister got. That was, until about 3 years ago. Then she got all the attention she had ever wanted - and then some.  
«_Beware of your wishes. They may come true._»

Maybe things wouldn't get that bad this time, and she would find her niche, make some acquaintances and mark her time at high school in peace. Maybe even a real friend. Male or female wouldn't matter that much. Or maybe even a nice, clean cut boyfriend that would be able to deal with her. Nothing for an eternity. Just for the time at school would be a perfect start.

She still did not understand how Quinn could revel in all the gawking, pointing and the questions. They were freaks of nature that did not fit in. Well, that wasn't right. She was a too large square peg and Quinn a too large round peg. Both did not fit into the round hole, but at least Quinn looked as if she could.

Only a few other students milled around as she passed the main gate. They looked, but nothing more. Convenient, to Daria's taste. On her way to the main entrance she saw two girls occupying the same spot as the group of three had done the day before. Maybe waiting for number three to complete their circle.

* * *

Stacy and Tiffany waited at the usual spot for their pre-school meeting. Stacy glanced nervously at her watch. It was only two minutes until the meeting would begin, and Sandi was still not present. Sandi was always early. Did they change the location and she missed it? Would she lose her post as the Fashion Club's secretary? Would she be thrown out of the club entirely?

"Loooook."

Tiffany nodded towards the main gate and Stacy followed her gaze. There he was, tall as the day before. He wore basically the same clothes as yesterday, but seeing his front was new. He wore glasses and had a soft oval face. His step was purposeful, with a surprising grace. And between the straps of his backpack, his jacket revealed a nice set of breasts.

"Hmm, Tiffany, I think..."

Stacy's glance wandered down, and found what she was looking for, but not really expecting. Adam's apple: missing. Hips; female hips. Not prominent but present. Omygosh. A girl. That verified, she continued.

"...that this is not a guy. It's a girl. A she."

Tiffany's gaze speechlessly followed the - Boy? Girl? - as - He? She? - walked towards the entrance. Once she passed the pair, Tiffany spoke up.

"I thinnnk you're riiiight. That is sooooo wrong."

"Did you see that, did you see that? It's a girl, a woman. But she's got muscles all over. Her hair's nice. I don't know about her face, the glasses need to go. But that chest and those shoulders..."

"If sheee wasn't aaa girrrrl Iiii would daaate herrr."

"Yeah. Yes. Me too."  
«_Even if she's a girl, she's serious eye candy._»

They watched **her** vanish inside the building.

* * *

Sandi ran a little late due to her strange encounter with that ... girl. She still shivered inwardly at the thought of that episode. Her thoughts during that conversation had been so wrong. Walking fast, but graceful, Sandi reached her friends. Running was so geeky.

"Hello Stacy, hello Tiffany, I notice you really made it on time to our meeting."

Stacy, a compulsive gossip, started to spill the news immediately.

"There's big news. The guy from yesterday passed us again. Well, not really, because he isn't. A guy I mean. She's a girl. And wears glasses."

"Tell me something new. I already knew that."

"How did you..."

"Gee Stacy, I have my own sources in the gossip network. And I think they are better informed than yours."  
«_There is no need for them to know about the less then stellar encounter between me and that ... freak._»

"Yes, Sandi. The tall girl ... the other tall girl, Quinn, did not pass by until now."

"I hope you did not overlook her while ogling that she-male person, feeling attracted to a girl. Being attracted to a girl is a big fashion don't. Think about those, like, you know, losers. Ew. Let's talk about something non-disgusting, say, the latest Waif issue; I cannot afford to waste my precious time by just waiting. Did you see those ..."

This started the color coordination meeting of the Fashion Club. Every now and then a boy dropped by to beg for a date, or a girl to beg about a membership. An unusual amount of people, especially boys, hung around the school yard in general, and the noise level was basically too high for an effective Fashion Club meeting. Some people were just rude.

«_The sophomore, junior and senior students must be like total ignorgas..., clueless people. Not a single one of them talked to me since we started our freshman year at LHS. They must be simply blind to real beauty._»

Stacy whispered and pulled Sandi back to reality.  
"Sandi! Sandi! She's here. She's heading straight over to us. You're the president, must do something! I couldn't talk to her yesterday and she will totally hate me and I will not be able to talk to her either and I do not know how many classes we will share and ..."

And indeed, that Quinn girl came over. Sandi scrutinized her during her approach thoroughly. She was tall. She had long, flowing red hair. Her long legs and well defined hips turned the school yard into a catwalk and gave her an air of superiority. She wore boot cut blue jeans sporting some fashionable sneakers underneath. No heels. A pink baby-T showed off a decent amount of midriff including a flat tummy. It stretched a little bit across her chest, just the right amount to make men drool and women envious. Over that she wore a simple cut jacket against the fresh breeze. Sandi did not have to look around to know that no boy in the vicinity talked, and that all of their eyes were on her. She was very mature for a freshman and positively a looker. Sandi knew that her opponent had arrived.

She stopped a step away from the group. Sandi was about to consider this rude, but as she tried to look her in the eyes, she knew better. The place where she usually looked was occupied by the girl's breasts.

"Hi, I'm Quinn Morgendorffer, aren't you the girl that sat next to me in science class the other day?"  
she addressed Stacy who looked like a deer in the headlights.

"Hel-lo. I am Sandi Griffin, the president of the Lawndale High Fashion Club. This is Stacy Rowe, our secretary, and Tiffany Blum-Deckler, our color coordination officer."

Stacy limited herself to a nod. Tiffany did nothing; her mind was completely occupied with processing the visual image of Quinn.

"Nice to meet you, Sandi, Stacy, Tiffany" Quinn politely replied.

"You are new at our school, one of the students that transferred in yesterday? Then you could not possibly know that Ms. Barch does not endorse conversations and note passing during class. As does any other teacher at this school."

"Ah, yes, but I was not aware that violations are punishable by death. At least Stacy's reaction looked like that."

Stacy became a little nervous as she became aware that her reaction had looked tremendously impolite. The same nervousness that had made her react that way in the first place.

Sandi elaborated.  
"Ms.Barch reserves capital punishment for males. But even as a female I would not recommend straining her patience."

"Is this why the boys hardly dare to breathe?"

"Yes. And it gives girls the chance for an easy grade in science, which is why Stacy is in that class."

"Hi Quinn!" Stacy said, now a little bit reassured. The tall girl was an impressive sight, but seemed to be quite amicable.

"Hi Stacy, I wasn't planning to get you into trouble."

Sandi spoke up again to control the conversation. She was the president of the Fashion Club. She would do the talking.  
"But your inconsiderate behaviour could have really put Stacy on the spot and thus cast a bad light at the Fashion Club. Therefore I must urge you to refrain from that kind of interaction with any members of the Fashion Club."

"I'll bear it in mind, since I like to stay out of trouble firsthand. What does your 'Fashion Club' do to begin with?"

"We set an example for the total population of Lawndale on how to dress fashionably, and inspire people to see the error of their ways of fashion. Sometimes it takes real effort to make people realize how ugly they dress. The fashion violations seem to increase with every passing day."

Quinn wasn't sure if the girl meant to be rude, or just sounded that way.  
"Fashion violations?"

"You for example are just abnormally tall. But that she-male that transferred in yesterday as well is a total butt-ugly freak. I can't believe the laws of nature allow the existence of such a foul creature. And its sense of fashion is simply non existant."

Sandi still could not forgive that girl for tricking her to think she was a boy. Thank god her mishap had happened out of sight of anyone. If that episode had happened on school grounds ... the possible rumors and the permanent damage those allegations could have to her popularity. Too bad that she was a girl...

Quinn's esteem for Sandi Griffin, the Fashion Club president, dropped from 'moron' over 'scum' straight to 'piece of shit'.  
"You mean like a wee bit smaller than me, brown hair, green jacket?"

Stacy's eyes got big. The words were polite, the voice was sweet, but a slight change in Quinn's body language promised trouble. She glanced at Tiffany, who returned the glance with an equal queasy feeling.

Sandi was pleased that the new arrival obviously had spotted the problem as well.  
"Ah, yes, you have seen that 'girl' up close. She's, like, optical pollution."

Stacy knew she wasn't a genius, but she could spot trouble. There was a reason why one does not call a football player stupid - at least not to their faces. She inwardly shivered at the idea of raw physical power unleashed. You could not keep a can of pepper spray at hand all the time.

«_You snotty bitch._»  
"That would be my sister."

Sandi knew she stepped on a land mine. Attack was still the best defence.

"That makes it even worse, because that girl, like, has someone with a sense for fashion around but still does not know how to dress fashionably."

«_You really failed the last reality check, didn't you?_»  
"That girl has a name, it's Daria, and I'd recommend not calling her any of that to her face. I don't like people hurting other people. And I'd prefer if you would not badmouth **my sister** at all to begin with. I think it would be wise if you would not talk to or about her at all."  
«_Unlike you, Daria has a soul. Even if she does not like to admit it._»

«_But I'd like to talk to... ARGH. Get a grip, Griffin._»

Sandi's sortie did not have the effect she expected. The slight glance in Quinn's eyes made it clear that she'd better drop the subject. Right now any road led to a phalli..., pyro..., bad victory. Appeasement seemed much better.

"At least you dress fashionably, but those jeans you're wearing could use an update."

Quinn smoldered, but decided to play nice. «_It took a while, but you finally realize that it's about time to shut up, Puny Griffin._»  
"Well, I'm new in town, so I'm sure you can point me to a store around here that carries jeans in my size. During my stay in New York during the summer I had a really hard time finding clothes that come in my size and are fashionable, but I'm confident that you know where to find some here ... in the big city of Lawndale."

Stacy had a hard time not smiling. This girl was somebody that could easily match Sandi. She felt a little uneasy about Quinn's sister. She was the most unique girl she had come across so far, and simply intimidated her; even more than Sandi. But maybe that was just a prejudice.

Sandi tried to slowly regain the upper hand.  
"I think we may accept your company on one of our Fashion Club shopping trips and show you the stores with acceptable apparel. You moved from New York to Lawndale?"

"No, I was just there for summer classes."

The girls chatted a little about less sensitive topics to get to know each other. Quinn learned about Ms. Barch's dislike for anything male, and wondered if Daria had any classes with her. Quinn also learned about the characters of the Fashion Club's members. Sandi was not impolite towards her and her sister because they were new. Sandi was generally impolite to everyone that was not herself. She seemed to love to control people. Either she did not know what image she projected, or she didn't care. Dealing with her would be straining. Stacy was basically a sweet girl, but a scaredy-cat. She babbled a lot about vain things, and remained silent about anything important. Her eyes told about her inner conflict in such situations, so Quinn couldn't label her dumb and superficial. Tiffany was difficult to understand. She didn't talk much. In that regard she was like Daria. If she spoke, she spoke slow and simple - the exact opposite of Daria. Quinn got the impression that Tiffany was in general a little simple - and hoped to be wrong.

The girls walked together to their combined homeroom.

* * *

Jane Lane made it into homeroom just in time. As usual, she grabbed her sketchbook from her backpack and flipped it to an empty page. She stalled at the sketches of Daria when Jane thought of her as a 'Darius' and recalled her images from her memory. She couldn't help it. Even if she knew that this was a girl, she felt still an attraction. Maybe it was the glorious figure. Maybe it was just the aura she projected. Maybe Jane was starting to come to terms that life was not as straight forward as she thought it would be.

After homeroom Jane made it on time to her American history class, where Mr DeMartino prepared to ream any unlucky students out that came in any second after the ring of the bell. Most students were already present, and as usual she avoided eye contact with anyone as she walked towards her customary seat on the left side of the class. Something felt different, and so she looked up and scanned the class room. Teacher's pets: present. Jocks: present. Popular people: present. Nerds and geeks: present. Stoners: physically present. Weirdos, including herself: present. Big green blop slumped over a table in the last row: present.

«_Damn! She's a sophomore! She's in this class! I ... have no clue what to do._»

Jane drew a blank and switched to auto-mode. Ignore everybody, sit down, take notebook/sketchpad out. Sketch until class begins. Avoid being caught sketching by Mr. D.

* * *

Charles Ruttheimer III arrived early at school as usual. He had to watch the girls, which was his favorite occupation during his time at school, since the classes didn't really pose a challenge. The week was so far still undecided. On Monday, the rumor of some really really luscious lady transferring in reached him. He was only able to spot her between two classes from afar, and found the rumours about her size being true. As for her hotness, he hadn't seen much, but really liked the little that he had seen. He had scheduled a thorough investigation for today.

He arrived as usual just on time at home room -with Mr. DeMartino right before the American history class - and found this ... person slouched over in the usually unoccupied chair next to him. Approaching his seat he filed the person under 'yet another football jock'. A jock with glasses, an unusual haircut and a weird taste in clothes, but a jock nevertheless.

Homeroom with its announcements had been unremarkable beside the surprised look that the taut gazelle that was Jane Lane had cast at the jock next to him. What was the story between those two? That did not seem right.

Mr. DeMartino introduced the jock, and immediately put his crosshairs on him with the intent to display his dislike of Kevin-alikes by thoroughly humiliating them. Charles had been about to fade into a nice daydream as he noted that Mr D's plan did not work out. Charles started to listen. The guy was very smart, and went straight head on with Mr. D. And something was wrong with his voice.

* * *

Jane followed the discussion and not her habit to immediately indulge in sketching as soon as Mr. DeMartino had picked a target. He was going unusually hard after Daria, for no reason she could fathom. And Daria kept up with profound answers. That girl was clearly smart. Smarter than Jane herself.

Jane listened to the voice that had haunted her through the night. A deep alto, but if you knew it, a girl's voice. She felt compelled to look.  
«_Don't turn! Don't look at her! Jane, if you don't keep looking at Mr D. you may miss his eye pop out for good! That's better. But I really like her voice. Monotone, but soothing. It makes me feel so safe. And she's a smart kid, too. I don't even know what language the last part was in._»

* * *

Looking sideways Charles noted a rather soft face. What was the name, again? Daria. Ain't that female? The realization came slowly onto Charles. That person was neither a jock nor a guy. That was the weirdest chick that had ever come under his eyes. And for the first time he encountered a female that **he** would reject. She was not for his taste. Clearly too masculine. He learned three valuable lessons during that class. Even he did not go for everything female including sheep, and he was positively not gay.

* * *

Jane listened to the conversation. Daria did not know the teacher, but did not yield. That was a risky gamble, especially with Mr. DeMartino, who knew his subject well. And had a somewhat unpredictable personality with a streak of cruelty.

She shuddered at the memory of the episode when he had caught her sketching once. Of course he called her on it. Of course he figured out after 30 seconds that she had not done the assigned reading. Of course he spent an eternity grilling her and point out every tiny hole in her knowledge, liberally salted with condescending remarks about her scholastic abilities. Which were, considering her knowledge, or more the lack thereof, justified. Jane learned some valuable lessons that time.

Don't get caught sketching the class away. At least skim the assigned chapters. Public humiliation is a damn good motivator. And she would never ever forget a single fact that she was supposed to know, but didn't at that time.

Daria was lucky. She went head on with an opponent she didn't know a thing about. That was not good practice, but at least she did not get into a defensive position. That line about not having any ethics was creative, but likely a blatant lie. She considered the concept, so at least she had some vague ideas about it. Even Brittany had ethics - even if she didn't know about it.

Daria knew the answers and presented them with a weird sense of humor. The good kind of weird. And in addition, Daria had a serious backbone. Not only physically, but mentally as well. Jane liked that. If she could ever look that girl in the eyes again, she would be a person worth knowing.

* * *

"Two wars. More like a warlett and a war, in direct comparison."  
«_What is your goddamn problem?! I didn't do a thing to you._»

Mr. DeMartino chuckled at her last comment. The girl had brainpower and matched him so far, and was amusing in her own way. He would shift his focus to an easier target.

"You can put it that way. NOW Kevin, what was the name of the first of the said wars?"

"The Vietnamese War?"

As Mr. DeMartino shifted his focus off of Daria and returned to his class Daria took some time to have a look at her new classmates between taking notes. In the front row sat a football player in his uniform currently making a fool out of himself by jumbling up about every historical fact he tried to come up with to answer the questions.

«_I can't believe there are people as dumb as him. And wear their sports uniform to class. That blow-up doll next to him seems to be his girlfriend. And she's hardly smarter. God, should they ever successfully reproduce, Darwin is going to spin in his grave fast enough to undig himself._»

Immediately afterwards Daria scolded herself for that thought. Despite often being subjected to prejudice on her own, she was not as free of them as she'd like to be. At least she had noticed and would now consciously give them a chance.

A pair of black students, a rare sight at LHS, sat in the front row as well. Make that a couple, the way they glance at each other every now and then. The black guy was of nice build, as far as she could tell from her position. The petite girl with the red hair sat in this class as well. She spotted her looking and gave a nod. Daria was not exactly happy with that, but nodded back to be polite. A row in front of her, several seats to her left sat the girl from self-esteem class. She busied herself with sketching.

«_I didn't notice that yesterday, but I bet she has been sketching me all way through that class. She hasn't seen me yet - or decides to ignore me. Suits me fine._»

Other than that, the most remarking thing about the class was Mr DeMartino's speech pattern. He emphasized syllables - and in unison his eye seemed to get a little bigger.

«_Either he's a vet with an injury, or teaching at a high school is really as bad as I always suspected it was. Or both. But he isn't half bad at teaching, knows his subject and makes funny remarks. Maybe we will get along after that sordid little episode._»

* * *

Charles received the last lesson after the class ended, while everybody got up to head for the next class. He stood up as Daria was picking up her backpack from the floor. To his own amazement, the thought to goose her didn't even cross his mind. This was not the third lesson. That was the mortal fear he felt when Daria erected herself about a foot away from him. Well over 6 foot tall and at least 180 pounds of muscle she towered next to him, when the thought that she could have sat beside him for a reason crossed his mind. That she was the prototype of a female according to teachings of Barch. That she was likely out to get him.

He hightailed into the safety of the hallway and knew that his looks at Daria would match the looks Jane Lane gave her this morning.

* * *

The bell ended Daria's first class at her new school. Things hadn't been bad so far, but until now she had been able to avoid most of her class mates. It helped that she had arrived early and that her homeroom had also been her first class. She stood up and grabbed her backpack. The students that just looked at her before now became really interested, and the boy with curly hair in Quinn's color fled the room. It was likely the guy that had run into her in the hallway the day before. At least she wouldn't have to explain about her gender with these people, her introduction by name had given that one away.

As she headed towards the door, the 'QB' approached her, accompanied by his girlfriend.  
"Hey, new dude, you look like football player material. I see these things, because I'm the QB. Are you going to try out for the team?"

"Your name's Kevin, right? I'm Daria."

"Hi Daria. I'm Kevin, and I'm the QB! And this is my babe, Brittany."

«_You got your chance, you messed up. You are stupid and/or slow._»  
"I'm a girl, Kevin."

"So, when will you be trying out for the team?"

«_Two. At least he does not try any high strung pick-up lines on me. Anyway, this has to be joke._»  
"I will not try out for the football team, Kevin."

His girlfriend had eyed her throughout the conversation. She had verified Daria's gender. For some reason, she did not seem to like the result and spoke up.  
"Kevvie, she's a girl. She can't be on the team."

For the second time that day, Daria could not resist.  
"We'd have to shower together. Every day. You would like that?"

Kevin's answer was instantaneous - he had not spent a single thought on it.  
"Sure!"

Brittany was not amused.  
"Kevvie! You just want her ... ooooooohhhhhhh! Pervert! Impure-thoughts-haver! You have me and still try... and she isn't even a cheerleader..."  
With that Brittany started to berate and swat Kevin out of the class room. Before they were through the door, Brittany looked over her shoulder and shot Daria a real nasty glare.

«_Game - set - match. This was so... unbelievable that I can't even be mad at him._»  
Daria was a little baffled. That girl likely felt threatened by her. And not physically. Well, kind of, but not in the bad way. That did not happen often and made Daria feel pleased.  
«_I'm such a mess. I like it when people hate me._»

* * *

Jane watched as Daria got up and moved towards the door, but was intercepted by Kevin. The comparison to 'the QB' was impressive. She was taller, and while Kevin looked more muscular, she was. Jane's artistic eye had no problem mentally subtracting the padding he was wearing. She took the opportunity to vanish from the class room while Daria was distracted by Kevin's stupidity to make sure she would not talk to her. She simply wasn't prepared to face her.

The last thing Jane saw from the hallway was Mack and Jodie approach Daria from behind. She had even Mack beat. And he on his own was impressive. Jane had no idea what Jodie did to keep him. If it wasn't for her, the girls would line up all around the block for him to choose.

* * *

"Nice handling of Kevin here."

Daria turned around to find the black couple standing behind her, grinning widely. The boy, who had addressed her, spoke up again.

"Hi, I'm Michael, but everybody calls me Mack. That's Jodie."

Mack pointed at the girl beside him.

"Hi Michael, hi Jodie. I'm Daria, but you know that unless you slept through class."

Close up Michael was a nice view. Three inches smaller than her, but with a nice build. His obvious girlfriend Jodie was the perfect match for him. She joined the conversation.

"And that's a bad idea around Mr. DeMartino. Hi Daria."

"Call me Mack, Daria. That was a really wicked move to sick Brit on him. But I guess that won't work for me."

Daria was pleasantly surprised by the friendly conversation with people who appreciated her humor.  
"I didn't expect it to work that well. And you showering with Kevin isn't a threat to Brit. I hope for Jodie here."

Mack laughed. That girl was little hard to read, but smart, witty and with a good sense of humor. Jodie went to defend her man.

"Nah, I'm **very** sure that it isn't. Mack'll have to think of his own ways to get to Kevin."

Jodie blushed a little as she saw the tiny smirk Daria directed at her. She had picked up the implicit information that Jodie didn't intend to give.

"I'm the captain of the football team, and this is a hard job with him around."

Daria immediately saw the problem.  
"No doubt about that. Sorry, but I need to get to my next class. Math."

"We as well. And we..."

The offer was clear to Daria, but this was much too early to start to get chummy with other students.  
"Sorry, I need to stop by my locker. We'll meet up there."  
«_Jodie, you may be a nice girl, but you scream 'work' all over. I bet there's hardly a club that you're not a member of. I'd better stay clear of you, unless I want to be swamped with 'voluntary' extracurricular activities. You'd better found a 'keep-Michael-happy' society and be the sole member._»

With those words Daria walked away.

"Mack. Mack! Let's get going."

"Hmm? Ah, hand me your bag."

"Thanks Michael, that's sweet."

Jodie and Mack walked off in silence. Before they reached the class room, Mack spoke up again.

"She's odd. But alright."

"It's going to take a while to get used to her. I have some mixed feelings about her."

"Hmm, why?"

"Mack, she's an about 16 year old girl that is taller than you and likely outweights you - and not by additional fat. She's smart as well. And that does not strike me as a healthy combination."  
«_I know what kind of girls you like. That glare Brit shot at her really worries me._»

"Don't tell me you of all people have prejudices."

"No, Mack. But discretion is the better part of valor. I'd like to know her a little better before I get all chummy with her."  
«_That girl will need some friends. Just friends. I'm sure._»

«_Jodie, you don't have enough time to be all chummy with yourself._»  
"Hmm. We'll see."

"My point exactly."

* * *

The math class was pleasantly unexciting. The teacher did welcome Daria, but did not try to single her out as Mr. DeMartino did. Of course he called on her to probe her level, but he seemed to be satisfied by a single correct answer. After the class a boy asked her how tall she was, and several students stuck around to make sure they overheard the answer. The boy was polite about it, and was not obvious about looking her over. So Daria answered politely, and left an awed crowd behind as she headed for PE.

Daria was a little anxious about PE. She wasn't bad at sports. She wasn't afraid to change in the locker room - what for? But the possible reactions of the other girls could be... adverse. Well, time to find out. Daria steeled herself, entered the girls locker room and moved towards an empty spot on the benches to change.

"HEY YOU! THIS IS THE GIRLS LOCKER ROOM!" screamed a girl that had faced away from Daria as she passed by her and turned around to identify the unfamiliar silhouette.

«_Three._»  
"Yep."

"GET OUT, GUY!" another girl joined in as Daria started to turn back.

«_Four. But I'm not sure if that really counts._»  
"Excuse me? I'm ..."

"GET OUT YOU DEGENERATED SICK FREAK!" the first girl screamed again.

"Look, ..."

The herd-like behaviour kicked in at full throttle. Daria's attempts of an explanation were drowned out by the multiple exclamations of 'Get Out!', 'Pervert!', 'Get the coach!', 'Peeping Tom!' as more and more girls joined in. Things started to get really out of hand as Daria caught the first soap bar that was flung at her. She started to get agitated and knew that early venting would be the best way to prevent a blow up.

"I'M A FEMALE AND I AM REQUIRED TO CHANGE IN HERE!" she roared at the top of her voice. Reverberating from the tiled areas of the locker room her words stood in impressive contrast to the then ensuing silence. Daria had to strain herself not to fling the soap bar back at its owner. But she felt better now.

"What's going on in here?" demanded Ms. Morris into the silence as she hurried into the locker room to investigate the ruckus. She spotted the big girl standing in the aisle between two rows of lockers, and several of the other girls in different states of undress up the aisle trying to cover themselves up. She remembered Ms. Li's short briefing. Two new girls, both tall; one lanky, Quinn, one muscular, Daria. No doubt, that was Daria. And her figure matched in shape the senior football players. Impressive.

"They'd like me to leave the locker room."

"And why would be that, ladies?"

«_You've been briefed, haven't you?_»  
"Ignorance, blindness, prejudices, general cluelessness?" offered Daria a little peeved. That was more hostility than she had expected.

Seeing Daria from the front, the realization slowlysunk in with the other girls.

"We thought..."

"You thought wrong. I recommend verifying your assumptions before you start accusing next time. Unless you want to see Ms. Li for harassment, that is. Do I make myself clear, ladies? You're Daria, right? Go change. And anybody late is going to do 10 additional laps."

Ms. Morris left and the silence was replaced by a multitude of murmurs that merged into a constant background noise. Daria was sure she was the sole topic of all conversations, but also knew that there was no way to change that fact. She just headed over to the spot she had in mind right from the beginning, and started to change. None of the girls that started the ruckus made any attempt to offer an apology, but she could feel their stares as she started to undress. Jacket. Boots. Socks. Jeans. T-shirt. Switching bra and panties for something suitable for PE she put on her LHS PE uniform - the male version in XL size. She thought she had heard someone whistle, but couldn't tell for sure. And if so, it was likely for the nasty bruise she had still on her back from her final training in Highland. But that didn't matter.

«_Let's see what girls' PE is like at LHS._»

* * *

After coach Morris settled the things in the girls' locker room, Jane retreated back into her corner into the cover of the locker row. But Daria settled down at the end of the bench that Jane just had an unobstructed view on. Jane was already changed, but instead of immediately heading into the sports hall and getting some laps done Jane opted for observation.

Daria did not make a fuss but undressed systematically. Without her clothes, her body had a nice muscular tone without the obtrusiveness of those body building types. Her waistline and hips were not as prominent as usual with women, but Jane was in no position to comment negatively on that. A large ageing bruise was prominent on her left shoulder blade.

«_Did she get into a fight? There must be some story to it... Did somebody just whistle? You're in for a disappointment; she likes boys. I know it right from the horse's mouth._»

Daria wore a surprisingly nice set of bra and panties. Jane had expected her to wear the utilitarian sports underwear she put on for PE. To her own amazement, Jane's subtle feeling of attraction to her did not diminish after having Daria's femininity on full display.

«_She's female, no doubt about that. Compared to her, everyone else in here is not just tiny, but also just a girl. This really weirds me out a little. And having her around in every other class does not exactly help. At least she did get a boys' size PE uniform. Smart move, I think even the girls' XL would mean 'bare midriff' for her. And be as tight around her chest as Brittany's._»

Jane stopped her observation and headed for the hall before Daria noted her staring at her. That would have been a very undesirable development.

* * *

After the scene in the locker room, the PE class was relaxingly uneventful. No girl wanted to do the back stretches with Daria, but that was for the good reason that none came even close to her height and weight. Ms. Morris filled in, but had a hard time lifting Daria.

Ms. Morris monitored Daria's performance closely. She was strong. Her well toned muscles moved under her skin as she moved. Ms. Morris spotted a few girls looking more than necessary. She hadendurance as well, but wasn't a good runner due to her body mass. Her body coordination was quite good, and she was sufficiently flexible, but not exactly graceful. As expected, Daria was athletic, but not in any of the core activities of the class. Ms. Morris shuddered at the idea of what that kid would do in game of volley or basket ball among the girls. Or soccer.

Maybe she would have to deal with her similar to that Lane kid, who would purposefully piss her off to be sent off to run laps. This was a good deal for both parties. The Lane girl got to run - and she did not slack off at running; she could only be a half-Lane, at most - and stayed clear of Ms. Morris. Ms. Morris would have liked to forgo the pissing-off, but that ensured that nobody could get on her back for favoritism.

Ms. Morris was pleased to see that Daria was quite well versed in safety. Once assigned the job, she diligently and skillfully secured all girls during their jumps. She never lost the focus on the task, and Ms. Morris was sure that Daria would catch a falling girl - not just soften the fall by using her own body as padding, as the other girls did. That had potential.

"OK ladies! That's it, hit the showers!" Ms. Morris dismissed the class, and found Daria heading straight towards her.

* * *

Doing her laps, circling the entire gymnasium, Jane watched Daria being directed through the different exercises by Ms. Morris. She didn't do badly, but not exactly well either. That stuff was obviously not up her lane. It was funny, though, to see her 'throw' a girl across the vaulting horse that took too little startup while Daria was on safety duty.

After Ms. Morris dismissed the class, Jane immediately headed for the showers. She'd been running more than half an hour non-stop and broken a nice sweat. She used the time to think about exactly that: the shower. Daria in the shower. And Jane reluctantly had to admit to herself that she was looking forward to it.

She was a little crestfallen when Daria didn't show up.

«_Is she too anxious to shower with the other girls after what happened before and planning to stall into the lunch break? She's not shy per se, as openly as she changed before class._»

As Jane pondered, Daria walked into the showers wearing nothing but flip-flops, her towel over her right shoulder and the soap in her hand. She took the first available shower, adjusted the much too low shower head and cleaned herself. Jane's eyes nearly bugged out.

«_She did not even think about covering herself! I'm not exactly modest, but I try to limit my exposure. Shy and anxious? I bet she needs a dictionary to look those words up._»

Jane took her time under the shower to watch Daria. She really enjoyed the show that came with a clinical shower. She glanced at the other girls in the shower. Some were scandalized by her open display. Some seemed envious about that athletic body. Others just awed by its size. But some others seemed to enjoy the show at least to Jane's level. In general, suspiciously few girls left the showers while Daria was in there. Those who did, left in quite a hurry.

«_Girl, are you aware that this show will grant you the star role in numerous upcoming squishy lesbian wet dreams? You better write yourself a sign: 'I like boys'. No. 'I like men'._»

Jane inconspicuously left the shower as she saw that Daria was nearly done with her task, toweled herself and changed into her street clothes. The visual she had gotten during the shower would require several studies to process. Maybe she could do a first charcoal sketch during art class.

«_Damn. I hope those images won't pop up in my mind at the wrong time._»

* * *

Having PE just before the lunch break was a blessing that Daria knew to appreciate. After unloading her backpack into her locker she headed straight for the lunch room and queued for a lunch. With a laden try, she sat down at a sparsely occupied table that seemed to promise some privacy during her lunch.

Daria found her fear of the local cafeteria food confirmed. The food was plain bad. The soup was a salt lake. How does one manage to mess noodles up? The meat was either road kill or Soylent Green. The vegetables were ... recognizable as vegetables. Barely. Her father's meals were a challenge, but better. And what was it with the meal that looked like leftovers from the day before? Daria was planning to give the food a try this week, and unless it improved dramatically, she would start to bring a boxed lunch.  
«_Dream on girl._»

"Is this seat taken?"

The voice woke Daria from her thoughts. The Ankh-girl was standing across from her with her tray in hand and pointed at the chair. Daria shook her head.

"Hi Daria" said the petite girl with the dyed red hair.

«_I've been pinpointed enough for you to get my name, but..._»  
"Hello Ms. Pennsylvania."

"Oh, I didn't give you my name yet. My name is ... just call me Scarlett, as everybody else does."

«_I don't care what your name is. Just do not make puppy eyes at me._»  
"Enjoy your meal, Scarlett."

Providing an opportunity to stall any conversation, Daria attacked her meal with new vigor. Scarlett watched a while and ate herself a little.

"I realize you're having a different selection than I am, but I doubt your choice is so much better than mine. What's with the eagerness? Do you want me to leave?"

"It's a free country." Daria shrugged and continued with her meal.

Scarlett sensed Daria's unwillingness to interact with her.

«_You're a tough nut to crack. But even if this is going to take a while, from what I've seen in PE this is so going to be worth the effort..._»

Daria and Scarlett ate in silence, each in her own world, and did not care about the rest of the lunch room. Silence was a state that suited Daria. With the proper people, talking was just not required. With the wrong people, it was pointless.

* * *

Jodie sat across from Mack and ate her lunch while retelling the events that led to the ruckus in the girls' locker room before PE. Mack got a good laugh out of it and returned the favor by telling some of the even more stupid than usual antics that Kevin performed during PE. Like pulling a Tommy Sherman. Jodie decidedly did not tell anything else about Daria. What she had seen in the showers had her really worried. Daria gave a very male first impression. But seeing her au naturel in the shower left no doubt that she was a healthy girl. Make that woman. Different from your usual expectations, but a woman all right. Mack did not need to know that.

Brittany sat with her fellow cheerleaders to gossip before hooking up with their respective boyfriends(or not) from the football team. Part of the gossip were the new girls, obviously. Daria was found to be a girl, and a shameless one at that. Even the cheerleaders had their limits when it came to handling a razor. Otherwise her body was a failure. Muscles all over, and unless naked hard to distinguish from a guy. Brittany's initial assessment of her was found to be wrong. No healthy guy would go for a girl like her, but the lesbians would be all over her. And most likely she would fit in perfectly with that bunch, given how she was sitting with the petite red head that made, very discreetly, puppy eyes at her.

The tall red head was another deal. She was just a freshman and only two weeks into the year there weren't any freshman on the squad yet, so the gossip was severely limited. She was tremendously cute, tall and mature for being a freshman. All guys - not just the freshman - really enjoyed looking at her. But her size was also her weak spot. Hardly any boy could approach a girl like her without getting dwarfed. The verdict was, that she was likely to stir up the popular circles (she had been seen hanging around with the Fashion Club!), but was no threat to the cheerleading squad. At least not yet.

* * *

Quinn's classes progressed slowly but steadily. The chairs at LHS were seriously small for a person of her size, and unless she extended her legs way under the chair in front of her, she was really cramped. She shared many of her classes with at least one of the girls from that Fashion Club. She was not sure if they made potential friends. That Sandi girl was incredibly snotty.

Quinn quickly learned about the groups at high school; they weren't that different from the ones at middle school. There were jocks from the teams, who associated with the cheerleaders and the other popular people. The 'involved' students. The nerds and geeks that stuck to themselves. Skaters. Metal heads. Punks. Stoners. Well, those were new compared to middle school, at least in their abundance. Goths. All those had found their friends and were integrated in a group, even the freshman.

Transferring schools just two weeks into the term was really a bad time. People had just made new acquaintances and were too busy converting them to friends to have time to care for some new arrivals. Quinn had seen the outcasts, who stuck to themselves. They could be a large group, but just didn't interact. Quinn was sure that this was the not-group that Daria would join. She had her own agenda and would welcome the solitude. Daria was like a leopard. She needed her freedom and walked alone. And Quinn knew she was capable of sleek movements that simply betrayed her frame.

Quinn, however, was like a bunny. Maybe a huge bunny, but a bunny nevertheless. A life like that was her worst nightmare. It would kill her. Very, very slowly and painfully. Her mom would be on her back, her dad would be clueless, and Daria would neither see nor understand her problem. Quinn knew she wouldn't make friends immediately, but she could not allow herself to wait too long before acting. Maybe those Fashion Club girls, they knew about dating, and fashion and...

She was aware of the stares she got. Much more than in middle school. The students talked about her without including her. Some girls and boys asked about her size, and she saw some bills being passed around after her answer. Daria would so fit into this. Not a single boy made an attempt to really talk to her. That really sucked.

At least her teachers gave her much leeway and didn't single her out. She was new at high school and had missed two weeks. But that was going to be temporary. Quinn was glad that she had a capable and willing tutor at call. Daria.

Daria seemed to have made an impact as well. There was gossip about a new guy, likely senior, that looked as a perfect addition to the football team. And since Quinn knew there was no such guy among the group of new arrivals, she was sure that someone had mistaken Daria - again.

PE class would settle that rumor. And like a hydra's heads there would be three new rumors in an instant. Quinn was not happy about that. Daria didn't like attention. She would be moody. Quinn would have to plan in order to minimize her stay at home during the upcoming weekend.

* * *

After her previous experience in the self-esteem class with Mr. O'Neill Daria was not happy with him being her English teacher as well. While English was her favorite subject, a teacher like him had the potential to ruin it permanently for her. Her hope was that his intellectual capacity would not limit him to reciting paragraphs from 'Shakespeare for dummies', as it did in that darn self-esteem class. Otherwise she would have to consider a hipflask with some serious drink to fast-forward through his class.  
«_Mom and Dad would reaaaally love that._»

She was relieved that the focus on her had dropped a little once she was in the classroom. Most of the people in this class had seen her in one of the previous classes that day, so her novelty had worn off. Jodie and Mack were in the class as well as Brittany and Kevin. Daria set off to occupy an arbitrary seat, but as she passed Jodie's first row seat on the way, the black girl spoke up.

"Ah, Daria, please don't take just some random seat."

Confused, Daria stopped and faced Jodie. Her decidedly neutral voice let Daria answer in the best monotone she could muster.  
"Why that?"

Jodie was not comfortable around Daria. History and PE had shown that the girl had brain and body. Lots, and they shared too many classes.  
"O'Neill needs a seating chart."

«_That guy gets better and better..._»  
"Ah, he never forgets a name - just the face that goes with it."

Jodie and Mack gave a little chuckle at her comment, but to Daria Jodie's sounded forced.  
"There is no way that he's going to mistake you for someone else. The original occupant of the seat however...well, let's say I just don't want to have to prompt for him all the time."

«_You make yourself everyone's lackey, don't you?_»  
Daria shrugged and headed back to the door. She noted that the Lane girl was in the class as well, and she busied herself with her sketchpad while ignoring the world around her.  
«_Hmm, maybe writing through class is an option. At least it's more approved than getting drunk. And kills less brain cells._»

Daria sat in the chair next to the door waiting for Mr. O'Neill's arrival until its original occupant showed up. Being primed by Jodie, she willingly vacated the seat and leant to the wall next to it. She used the waiting time to observe her class mates. The ankh-girl, Scarlett, was in this class as well. The rest of her class mates were rather nondescript. A girl in a goth-type outfit caught her eye; she wore a single glove.  
«_Asymmetry. The brain just notices it without really knowing what is odd._»

Daria's observation was interrupted when Mr. O'Neill entered the classroom and closed the door. His eyes went a little wide as he spotted her, but that was the limit of his reaction. If he was nervous all the time to begin with. Putting his notes on the desk, he surveyed the class, squinted at his seating plan, and made a note on it.

"Hello class, we have a new student in our English course, Miss Darla Morgendotter."

"Daria. Delta-Alpha-Romeo-India-Alpha. Morgendorffer. Mike-Oscar-Romeo-Golf-Echo-November-Delta-Romeo-double Foxtrot-Echo-Romeo."

Mr. O'Neill squinted at his notes again. "Hm, sorry, yes, Daria. Please take the empty seat over there. Class, please make Daria feel welcome."

Daria made her way to the indicated seat in the back at the classroom. The pattern to sit her in the back in order for her not to obstruct the view of any possible students behind her was obvious. She hoped that her eyes would keep up with it. Even with glasses her vision was less then stellar.

"And as she has missed the first two weeks of classes, she would surely hugely appreciate if someone could give her some pointers about the ..."

"'Tiny appreciation' simply seems impossible" someone said and provoked a laughter from the class and a groan from Daria.

"No, what I mean is if someone would be large-hearted enough to ..."

"'Small hearted' won't do either! No way!" More laughter from the class.

Daria wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry. The jokes were on her, but also on Mr. O'Neill and not exactly mean. And that teacher was just...

"Class, I mean if someone could spend a tiny amount of..."

"I don't think 'tiny' is going to work!"

"Class. Quiet please, class. You all know what I'd like you to do."

It took a while, but the class got calmed down.

"Well, then let's start with the lecture. We're currently looking at the poems of Shakespeare. Daria, to welcome you to the class I'd like you to read one of the great sonnets ..."

Suppressed giggles filled the room as Daria picked up her textbook and recited the poem that Mr. O'Neill assigned.

* * *

English turned out to be another class that Jane shared with Daria. She was briefed by Jodie about Mr. O'Neill's quirks. Those two seemed to get along just fine. After the class started and Daria had again ended up in the back row, Jane was ready to sketch all the way through the class. The laughter at Mr. O'Neill's size references - and Daria's size - was amusing. Daria seemed to take it well. Jane had the distinct feeling that Daria had gotten quite a lot of teasing during her life. She stuck out, and the hammer usually hits the nail that sticks out most.

As Daria read the poem, Jane was again mesmerized by her voice. Yes, her reading was rather monotone, but she didn't make a single mistake and brought the rhythm (what was the proper term for it again?) of the sonnet out the right way. Her voice had a soothing quality to Jane, but she did recall the incident in the locker room. Ouch.

Somehow, Daria's voice did not match her body, but Jane could not tell why she felt that way.

* * *

The self-esteem class was unremarkable. Daria had been early again, but this time chose a seat in the back row. After the second teacher asked herto stay in the back in order to give the other students an unobstructed view to the board, she did so automatically. The 'QB', who wasn't exactly small and always wore his padding, was seated in the front row in every class he shared with Daria. If Mack was present, he was seated right beside him. Obviously Mack and the teacher were required to keep the Kevin in line.

Sitting in the back had its perks, as it gave her a good view of her fellow students. It did not take long to figure out who belonged into what clique. At least the social structure of LHS did not differ too much from her old school. That Lane girl shared several classes with Daria, but went miles to avoid her.  
«_I wonder what is with her. I think I was quite friendly with my reply, must be her disappointment._»

Interestingly, she did not belong to the jock group as Daria initially suspected, but seemed to be one of the outcasts that no group would have. Or that would have no group. Her way of dressing fit that way as well. Interestingly, the Coach had sent her running laps quite early in PE. That had looked pretty much like some extra time for track team training.

When Lane entered the self-esteem class, just before the bell rang, Daria observed her systematically looking for her - in order to chose a seat that brought the biggest distance between the two girls. Afterwards, Lane immediately immersed herself into drawing.

Sitting in the back of classes had also its drawbacks. Besides Daria's bad eyesight, that made the board a little hard to read, there were the 'less interested' students that stuck to the back of the classroom as well. And their continuous chatter and antics irritated Daria a little, but at least there were no brain dead idiots like Beavis and Butthead around. The goth with the fishnet glove had stuck in the back as well, and as she was silent during class - neither snoring nor chatter - Daria had seated herself next to her as often as possible. They hadn't exchanged a single word and hardly a look, which suited Daria fine - and the goth as well.

The self-esteem class passed by Daria in a blur, and she only took sparse notes to be able to identify the used books later on. The school library was not likely to stock them, the local library neither, but with OPAC and remote borrowing that was not a real problem.

* * *

After school, the Fashion Club met up for an additional strategy meeting.

"So, Stacy, what can you report from your survey of the current gossip?"

"Well, the usual rumors revolving around who-dates-who and so on are currently just background noise. The two new girls are the main topic."

"So, Stacy, would you like to elaborate. And please stick to our main problem. Quinn."  
«_My main problem will be dealt with later._»

"It seems like we're currently among the students best informed about Quinn. Our talk before school was about the longest she had with a single group all day. We witnessed her in class by ourselves, she's ok, but not brainy."

"Stacy, something new, please."

"The talk among the guys is ambivalent; everybody is awed by her presence and consider her a major hottie. I quote: 'I know what image will be on my mind this evening when I'm ...'"

"STACY! EW!" "EWWWWWWWW! Thaaat's grossssss!"

Despite the offensiveness of Stacy's words, Sandi did not dare to ignore the facts that they conveyed.  
«_That development was somehow to be expected. As long as this is only a temporary effect due to her novelty, it's all right. Permanent however..._»

"Sorry, Sandi, but that was ..."

"No member of the Fashion Club should say such things. Even if it was verbatim. You better not even think about such things. Do you need a week's worth of fashion sabbatical to sort your thoughts out?"

"No! NO! Sandi, I was just giving you an accurate..."

"Do so, but please bear the statutes of the Fashion Club in mind while doing so. Go on."

"Well, the boys think she's hot, but so hot that she seems unapproachable."

"Exactly as I predicted!" Sandi said, smug.

"There is another very important piece of information that I got from Heather that overheard Quinn talking to Jodie Landon. Quinn rebuffed any participation in clubs and extracurricular activities with reference to her part time job as a model. Between that, homework and an occasional date she just has no time."

This information had an impact on Sandi like a Daisy Cutter. That girl did not only look like a model, she **was** a model. That changed things completely. Just observing and manipulating every now and then would not be sufficient to control her popularity. Every circle would be falling over themselves to get her as a member. That had the potential of serious trouble in the long term. Sandi made an ad-hoc decision. Quinn was unwilling to become a member of any activity. But likely she would give in and join a club to stop the whining. One club. And that would be the Fashion Club. That called for some serious scheming. She did not expect any suitable help from Tiffany, and the danger of Stacy being a leak outweighed her usefulness.

"This is an important development. Maybe she will be able to provide us with some contacts. Even if she just models for the local copy shop, the photographers are usually well networked. Stacy, try to get any additional information on that topic. Anything else?"

"Yes Sandi, I'll try to. What's next? Ah, for the rumor of Quinn being, well, you know, as said by the girls that had been next to her in the PE locker room, this seems to be true. Her sister is, well, so too. And that has been verified by every sophomore girl that shares PE with Daria. Daria is said to be even, hmm, less self-conscious than Quinn."

"I heaaaard you could see eeeveryyything."

«_Everything, I'd really like to see... crap, that is an image that I really don't need in my head right now. Get a grip, Alexandra!_»

"That gave Daria an instant recognition among the girls who, well, do not like boys."

"So Daria could be a lesbian, but at least she's a slut. Maybe Quinn is too. But I doubt the two of them can exploit their lewdness with their repulsive bodies. We cannot entrust the Fashion Club's popularity standing on the possibility of Quinn having cheerleader morals. We'll have to have a close eye on her. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes Sandi"  
"Yesss Sandiii"

"I think it would be wise to wait for Quinn tomorrow morning to trick her into talking to us, just as she did today. OK? Meeting adjourned."

* * *

The smell reached Daria as soon as she opened the door to her home. Her father had kept his promise and had taken care of the dinner by conducting some chemical experiment with the intent of creating some stew. Daria announced herself and got an answer from her father. Her mother waved at her from the living room, where she had spread several files on the table and was busy talking on her cell phone. Quinn was not to be seen. Daria went into the kitchen, and immediately started to set the table, as it wasn't prepared.

"Hey kiddo, good you're back! I made some stew. How's that self-esteem coming?"

«_Kiddo my ass._»  
"Brilliant. I got mistaken for a guy six times today. That does wonders for one's self-esteem. You owe me a twenty."

Daria picked up Jake's wallet from the sideboard, presented it to him, and at his nod removed two ten dollar bills in his sight, which she pocketed.

«_Ah, kiddo, that sucks. People just don't see what a sweet little girl you are._»  
"That's not nice, but you haven't run into any real trouble so far, have you, Daria?"

"No. Actually, it's better than I expected. Having Quinn around distributes all the attention between the two of us. I just don't know how she can like it."  
«_And the head cheerleader seems to see me as a threat in regard to her bozo boyfriend. No matter how stupid that is, it delights me in a wicked way._»

"She is just the way she is. She can't have enough attention. Here, try the stew! I tried an old secret recipe from military school!"

"If she takes my share, I'll do her chores for a week. A month. The stew is ok dad, stay clear of any additional spices."

Daria immediately made contingency plans: Distract Jake, insert potatoes, let them simmer a bit, extract potatoes before Jake notices, hope for the best, and serve.

"Dad, you've already cooked. I'll take over, you go and get mom and Quinn."

"Thanks! I'm on my way!"

«_Now I have to hurry..._»

* * *

Twenty minutes later the Morgendorffer family was rounded up at the table, and the stew was served.

"Enjoy your meal! It's stew ala Jake!"

Helen and Quinn held back a little until Jake and Daria swallowed the first spoon of the concoction, and after seeing no adverse reaction started eating by themselves.

"It's good, Jakey. Hot, but not too hot, one can still taste the ingredients."

"Well, then 'kiss the cook'!" Jake said and presented his cheek to his wife.

Quinn looked at Daria who rolled her eyes as her father got what he wanted. Quinn had the inkling that Daria had somehow intervened to ensure the edibility of their dinner. The kitchen was Daria's realm, even if Jake and Helen thought otherwise.  
«_God, I hope those two will not get any funny ideas tonight._»

"Tell a little about your day, Quinn." Helen was not wasting her time by just eating.

"Well, I met these three girls that are the Fashion Club, and they really know how to dress nicely, but it's much easier for them as stores just carry their sizes. And they asked me to join the pep-squad, but ..."

Jake dug into his stew, which was for some reason rather bland, and listened to his little girl tell about her school day.

Daria listened as well, and was amazed at the ease with which Quinn settled in at high school.  
«_Well, being asked about your size offers an invitation for a conversation, but really loses its appeal after the fifteenth time. And not being asked out by any boys on your first day is not a natural disaster, Queen Quinn._»  
«_They may need some time to find the courage to approach you - outside of their imagination. And that you are not completely up-to-date in your classes is to be expected after missing the first two weeks. If you keep up that studying you did yesterday, you'll be on track by the start of next week. At least you don't have that bozo Kevin in your class. If he is as stupid as he seems, he shouldn't be able to tell the teams apart on the field._»

* * *

Jane sat at the kitchen table in the same spot as the day before. She wore the same expression on her face as the day before. As Trent arrived in the kitchen and saw her, he knew that she was still troubled. He had just wanted to pick up a soft drink and head back to the basement to continue to practice the Open-D tuning on his acoustic, but that could wait. Trent sat down across from Jane, as the day before.

He opened his soda can and prepared for some time in silence before he would try to talk to Jane, but Jane started the conversation by herself.

"My laziness really bit me in the ass today."

Trent offered her his soda, which she accepted. While he got himself another can, Jane continued.

"I wanted to prepare myself to face her again. In self-esteem class. I would have had time all day. To sort out what is going on."

Jane took a sip from the can and went on.

"**Brrr** This store brand stuff does not really replace Ultra Cola. Neither in caffeine nor in sugar nor in taste. Well. It didn't work. She's a sophomore. We share classes. I walked into Mr D's class, and there she was. My brain shut down."

"And Mr D caught you sketching." Trent grinned a little at the memory of Mr D chewing him out for nodding off in class.

"No. No, he didn't. He was busy trying to show her up for some reason. Didn't work though."

"Did Mr D have a bad day?"

"No, but she's a smart kid. Very smart. I think they negotiated a ceasefire someway through class."

* * *

Helen encouraged Quinn to keep going by asking a question every now and then, but even Quinn ran out of news after a while. So Helen shifted her focus to her other daughter.

"How about your day, Daria?"

"Some weird girl hit on me before I even reached school grounds. My history teacher either hates me or just wanted to test me. 'The QB' asked me to try out for the football team. I nearly got kicked out of the girls' locker room before PE. I'm afraid I have an admirer, ah, make that an admireress. I hope she gets 'NO!' and isn't the persistent type. I really hate that situation."

Compassion and weariness filled Helen's soul. Did Daria manage to get into trouble on her first real day at the new school?  
«_Daria, why can't you be a little more like me and understand it as a second option?_»  
"What happened in PE?"

"Some girls hadn't seen me before and mistook me for a guy. The coach calmed things down. I think most of them had to see the complete evidence before they felt safe."

"Any problems in your PE class, Quinn?" Helen shifted her focus on her other daughter.

"I'm not any good at it, but you know that. And getting sweaty is just gross. But to answer your question: Some of the girls were surprised, but no Miss goody-two-shoes started to call me names or something."

"Ah, girls, those stuck-up kids just don't know what is good." Jake chimed in.

«_Jake, I agree with you on the advantages, but they are your daughters._»  
"Daria?"

"I think nobody really noticed - they were busy looking at the rest of me. And if: I'm a freak anyway."

"Should they start giving you trouble, tell them the truth. If they won't stop..." Helen did not have to spell the "or else" out.

"The other girls are going to be so jealous that we never have to shave our legs..." Quinn smirked. Daria decided to divert from the current topic.

"I asked the PE coach about the school's gym today. There are two-hour 'girls only' slots on Tuesday and Thursday after school. I'm going to attend this Thursday after that self-esteem class, if that's alright with you, mom, dad?"  
«_And..._»

«_Daria, you sneaky..._»

"Of course Daria. And Quinn will accompany you. She needs to keep up with her physiotherapy exercises. A 'girls only' class is perfect for that."

«_...you're coming with me, Miss Sloth._»

"Mo-om! I'll get all sweaty! And look like a jock! You can't do that to me!"

"You will go. And Daria, you will make sure that she does her exercises properly!"

"Yes, mom."  
It was Daria's turn to smirk.

* * *

Jane took another sip from her soda.

"PE was ... strange. When she came into the locker room, some girls that hadn't seen her before mistook her for a guy and made a ruckus. Coach Morris came in and calmed them down. After changing there was no more doubt she's a girl. The shower after PE really got to me."

"Hmm?"

"She doesn't hide herself. I got a realllly good glance at her ... and I really liked what I saw. She's all hard but soft at the same time. Nice and smooth movements. God, this is so disturbing."

"So you like a girl." Trent said and shrugged.

"No. That's not the point, Trent. I like that body. And that's ok. But I'm not sure if I like it because it belongs to a girl or in spite of it belonging to a girl. Damn."

"Does it matter?"

"Yes! To me it matters!"

«_Ooooook...time for a little diversion._»  
"And what do the other girls think?"

"How should I know Trent!? Am I a mind reader?! Ah, sorry, I'm ... She's intimidating. Her physique, I mean. Strong and agile, but totally sucks at gymnastics."  
Jane laughed a little and fished her sketchbook from her backpack.  
"So much like a guy. Look at these sketches."

To Trent said sketches initially looked the same as the ones yesterday. But on the second glance he noted a slight difference in proportions. The greek athlete was now a female. And wore glasses, giving the picture a surreal feeling.

"Those should be pretty accurate. I had a good look at the original in its natural state. Her jacket conceals a lot when you look at her from behind."

Trent was tempted to ask Jane about the accuracy of those sketches. But implying that Jane took artistic liberties when she claimed she hadn't was bad practice, so he remained silent.

"I wonder if I can get her to model for me..."

"That would require asking her. You didn't talk to her all day?"

Trent meant it more as a statement than a question. He knew his little sister.

"No! No way! I don't have the nerve to talk to her!"  
Jane got agitated.

"What's so difficult, Janey?"

"I mistook her for a guy. And I want her body!"

Trent grinned widely. That was very honest. And most likely unintentional.

"What now, Trent?!"

"If I had ever said that..."

After two seconds, the color of Jane's face approached the hue of her jacket. His sister was embarrassed, on at least two accounts. Trent didn't press on, but had an idea how to help her a little - in the long run.

"Janey, how would you feel if some girl mistook you for a guy?"

"I ... that must suck. Crap."

"Maybe an apology would make you feel better about this as well."

As Jane didn't answer he knew she had some thinking to do. He picked up his soda and headed for the basement. Trent could nearly touch the blues Jane emitted. Blues. Open-D tuning. Hmm. Maybe he could get a good song out of this situation.

* * *

Later that evening Daria went downstairs to make a call. The internal phone wiring was still faulty, so the phone in her room didn't work. Not that she would need it as often as Quinn already did hers.

"I'm calling about my training classes." Daria announced to her parents as she picked up the phone. She read the number from a Post-It and keyed it in. After the fourth ring, somebody picked up.

"Reynolds speaking." was about the answer Daria was expecting.

"Hello Mr Reynolds, my name is Daria Morgendorffer, we just moved in from Highland,Texas, and..."

"So you're Tiny."

Daria heard the smile in the man's voice and couldn't help but smile herself. She could still remember how she had gotten that nickname during her first training. She was a short, fragile kid back then, when Helen had made the girls attend those classes with her. Quinn was already taller, and that didn't sit too well with Daria. She hated being mocked and called names at school because of her size.

But when the 6'something 190+pound ex-marine teaching those classes named her Tiny, he did so for a very good reason and with no ill intent: compared to him she simply was, and of course she was the smallest participant to begin with. That nickname stuck, even as she grew, and she had come to like it for the memories that were attached to it. Memories of her being a much more normal kid that could just blend in if she had to. She wasn't sure if those times had been happier, but they hadn't been as bad as as they seemed then.

"Yeah, that would be me."

"Buzzcut told me to expect your call. He was right on that one. You'd like to join the classes, I suppose?"

"Yes, I got used to them. It is really a pity that I'll have to commute to Oakwood, you're sure there are no classes at Lawndale?"

"Sorry, really not. Is this going to be a problem?"

"I'll have to work something out with my parents."

"Maybe you can carpool with somebody from your area."

"Sounds like a good idea. When and where are the classes?"

"We currently meet four times a week. Monday, Thursday, Friday and Sunday at 7pm, usually 'til 10. Many people have other things to do on Friday evening, so it's mostly the 'enthusiasts' on that day."

"Hmm, Thursday is a little short term. Where do you meet on Friday?"

"The parking lot of the Tellerman office complex on the side of the highway to Middleton. One of the security crew is a student as well. We're in the city green Sunday and Monday after."

"Parking lot. Ouch. But I think I can make that. See you on Friday, Mr Reynolds."

"No pain no gain...See you, Tiny. And I'm really curious how much of the description Buzzcut gave me was part of his imagination..."

"Well, you'll see for yourself. Bye!"

"Bye!"

Daria jotted time and location on the Post-It that did hold the phone number. Getting a ride this Friday was doable. A regular ride would be difficult. She would have to put some serious thought in the carpool idea. Buzzcut had been right. She had the feeling she would fit in this group as well.

* * *

As Daria passed Quinn's room, her sister opened her door and called for her.

"Ah, Daria, it's you. Could you give me some hints for my reading?"

After dinner and watching a little TV downstairs Quinn had retreated into her room to work on the books on her reading list, which was the most time consuming aspect of changing schools.  
«_If you haven't read those books on your own, anyway._»

Daria turned and followed Quinn into her room. Daria wondered if permanent exposure to those colors could cause ocular cancer.

"So...?"

"I finished another one of those Shakespeare thingies. It's..."

Quinn held up her school issued copy of 'Shakespeare, selected pieces' and sat down again at her desk, facing Daria. Getting extra high desks and chairs had been a real pain, but was a necessity. For a while Daria had to use bricks under her desk's legs to heighten its top.

"... well, I understand this weird language now, I get what is going on, but..."

«_If that is true, our last sessions paid out. Good._»  
"That's nice, but what's more?"

"I keep forgetting things. It does not fit in my head anymore. That was about the fiftieth boring drama with boring people and weirdo language that I've read and it's, like, all the same in my mind! One large blot of pointless mumbo-jumbo! Even that stupid guy ran out of titles and just numbered the junk. Doesn't he know that one starts with one - and not with two or four?"  
The frustration was palpable in Quinn's voice.

Inwardly Daria smiled. Quinn was paying the price for an easy summer. Betting on cramming was a bad choice, but Quinn had made it. Now she had to deal with the consequences.  
"And you want my help to forget the 'mumbo-jumbo'? Sorry, I don't do brain surgery."

"Haha, Daria. I need to know that junk."

"I don't implant knowledge either."

"But you must help me!"

"No, I cannot remember things for you. That's something you've got to do on your own."

"Daria, I just can't. Help me here. Please. If I come home with a 'D' essay mom's going to be so pissed off. You don't want that either."

"You've got a point there."  
Daria contemplated how to help Quinn. To skip out of helping her was not an option; one word to their mother, and Helen would raise hell. Daria's eyes were on Quinn, but out of focus while she was lost in thought.

"Soo..." Quinn asked, and watched Daria return from orbit.

"OK. I'll help you. Let me have a look at your notes."

"Notes?"

Daria did not the like the surprised look on Quinn's face.  
"The notes on the stories you've read."

"I've read them. I didn't take any notes."  
Quinn started to realize her mistake.

Daria just shook her head. «_Talk about unorganized._»  
"Quinn, that's..."

"Hey, I'm supposed to read the books on the reading list! That's what I'm doing!"

"True. But being on the **reading** list does not ban taking notes on the texts. And if you keep forgetting things, you obviously should have taken notes."

Quinn was a little bit embarrassed and felt stupid. The thought to take notes while reading had not once crossed her mind. She had been proud that she was forcing herself to do the reading, but her brainy big sister immediately had put her back in her place.  
"So, what now?"

"You look at the texts again, and take some notes. Then we can talk."

"I'm not reading that junk **again**."

"You don't have to. Quickly browsing through them should be enough to recall the main points."

Quinn looked unhappily at her issue of 'Shakespeare, selected pieces' and came up with another way to end this quick. She put on her pleading face.  
"Would you give me your notes?"

«_Have you ever considered that the HHS freshman reading list may differ from the LHS list?_»  
"No. And that is solely because only taking your own notes will really help you remember."

Daria had put her arms akimbo during that sentence, and this told Quinn that the last word on that matter had been spoken. Likely she was right. Unhappy, she put the book back on the desk and mourned the hours she would waste taking her own notes. But then Daria would help her. She got up from her chair and faced her sister.

"I don't like that, but you're probably right. Thank you Daria."

Quinn stepped over to her sister and hugged her. Quinn could use a hug, her first whole day at high school was a bigger strain than she had let on. High school was even more of a war zone than middle school had been. Getting out of there unscathed would be much more difficult to her than to her self-reliant sister. Most things just ricocheted off of her armor.

Daria was a little surprised, but returned the hug willingly. She liked being hugged, because it made her feel so trustworthy. But her experience thaught her never to initiate a hug on her own. That made some people uncomfortable - for obvious reasons. As nice as being hugged by Quinn was, it always brought up some bad thoughts. She had stopped in her growth, but Quinn was taller. Again. She could never be a proper 'big sister' to Quinn. And holding her sister's delicate body always remembered her of her own messed up figure. Quinn was tall, but had all the right curves of a woman. Long firm legs, a creamy white complexion with just the right amount of freckles that were a natural red head's trademark. Quinn was so soft. Her looks provided Quinn with a lot of attention, but she just basked in it. Daria would not be really comfortable with it, but at least it was good attention. At least compared to what she herself got.

As Daria returned the hug heartily, Quinn felt immediately better. Daria's arms around her made her feel so protected. Strong, but loving. Daria may be a little smaller than her, but outweighed her by about twenty-five pounds and thus was her BIG sister. She always had been. Quinn remembered the one time when she had thrown a fit about a year ago and tried to lunge at Daria. She had felt like a rag doll during the eyeblink that it took Daria to pin her on the floor. Luckily Daria was not angry at her and just waited until she had calmed down.

"It's all right Quinn, you'll catch up soon."

Daria ended the hug, and Quinn took a step away from her.

"I hope so, I don't like all that additional studying."

Quinn took another look at her sister in her orange shirt and jeans. Daria was strong in mind and body, which Quinn was not. The people admired Quinn as they would admire a piece of artwork, but people respected Daria. On first sight for her physique, but soon after for her mind. That respect was worth so much more than all the shallow attention she got.

"Anything else? I need to finish some things before I go to sleep."

"No, that's all. Thank you again."

"No problem. Later."

Daria left Quinn's room to return to her own, and Quinn sat down at her desk again. Her view fell on the dreadful book again, but her mind was not set to contemplate the works of Shakespeare. Her future at LHS seemed to loom over her.

* * *

Daria returned to her room in a better mood than before. Seeing Quinn interested in more useful things than fashion gave her hope that her sister would not turn out as a living display dummy. Her mother's move to tie Quinn's modelling jobs and classes to her academic standing obviously provided a strong motivation. The hug she got out of it was a nice bonus. Quinn felt for some reason unknown to Daria safe around her, but Daria would not complain.

Daria closed her door, and 'accidentally' knocked her backpack over in such a manner that any attempt to open the door would hit it and cause enough noise to make her notice. Daria grabbed her diary from its obvious hiding spot behind some other books in her shelf and started to write the entries for the day before and the present day.

New school with a power mad principal, visit at the shrink who did not like her question about the last shooting rampage at that institution. Being sentenced to a freak class with a teacher who seems to be permanently on drugs. Being propositioned by two total hotties (for, but of wrong, sex) and one total dumbass (for football). A beer on Monday evening, unpacking her stuff. The history teacher with the pneumatic eye. The shouting match in the locker room. The girl who lost her Ben Wa balls in the shower after P.E. Having talked about the local venues to hold black celebrations with that girl during lunch. Her dad's failed attempt at stew. A shot of H for dessert. A little bonding with Quinn.

Daria powered her computer up, and while the machine booted, she stored the diary in its new old spot that no snoop would miss. The bait was laid out again. She then logged onto the machine, extracted her personal data from the family video (last Christmas, courtesy of Jake) it was hidden in, decrypted it and opened her journal. After finishing the two missing entries, encryption and re-embedding the data into the video she lamented the missing internet connectivity due to the defect internal cable and phone lines. She had to make sure that they would be fixed ASAP, or some work around like a wireless connection was installed. She'd have to talk to her dad about that.

* * *

Her father told her that he wanted to look into the cable problem by himself before calling an expert.

"Maybe it's just a loose connection we can fix ourselves and save some money."

He was going to be too busy during the week and thus planning the investigation for the weekend. Daria decided to wait until then and she would make sure to assist her father. In other words: monitor him, to ensure that he would connect neither the phones nor himself to the mains.

"Could you give me a ride to Oakwood on Friday evening, dad?"

"Friday? To Oakwood? Why?"

Jake was suddenly very interested.

"My self-defence classes. There are none in Lawndale, and the Friday evening class at Oakwood seemed best to me to start with."

"Your class, I remember, you said something along those lines. When is it on Friday?"

"Starts at 7."

"I think I can, but I have to check. Can I tell you tomorrow?"

"Sure, dad."

With a 'Gotta make some calls!' and a wicked gleam in his eyes her father left, mumbling to himself. He was definitely up to something.

Daria wished she was already allowed to drive on her own. That would solve that problem, she'd just have to bum a car.

«_On the other hand, I'd likely end up as Quinn's chauffeur._»

* * *

Daria was in the bathroom brushing her teeth as Quinn entered as well. Daria finished up, and made room for her sister.

"Quinn, before you start, can you give me a hand, please?"

Daria held some ointment jar out for Quinn to take.

"Your back?"

"Yes, it's alright, but I want it completely healed before I start my training again."

Daria removed the old baggy t-shirt that she wore.

"Ouch. Nice coloring. Mostly green-yellowish with a tad of teal. I was already wondering why you were wearing that thing."

Quinn started to rub the salve onto her sister's shoulder, admiring her muscles.  
«_That bruise will take some more days to vanish._»

"I wouldn't want to ruin anything else." Daria elaborated.

The ointment created a pleasant coolness on Daria's back. Quinn was careful, and did not rub hard enough to cause any aches.

Quinn saw an opportunity and seized it.  
"If I have to keep this up this week, I demand compensation."

Daria groaned inwardly. «_There goes the money I made from dad..._»  
"10?"

"No."

«_You greedy not-so-little..._»  
"15?"

"No. I wasn't thinking of money. During the move I saw you have a book on massage..."

«_Ah, crap..._»  
"Quinn, all I did was read a book on the subject."

"Don't tell me you don't want to try it out. If you want me to nurse your back this week, you owe me a nice back massage the coming weekend."  
«_I know how fast you learn, and you're strong enough to give a good massage. And I have a good idea why you would be interested in that topic._»

"Quinn, I have no experience and could hurt you."

"Ah, and you would rather unexperiencedly hurt your boyfriend...he would not be **up** for anyth..."

"Quinn!"  
«_...get your mind out of the gutter. There are some things that we should have never talked about._»

Quinn just smirked at her sister, who looked at her via the mirror, but was not inclined to blush.

«_Sometimes you are just a really spoiled brat._»  
"Quinn, go to a spa."

Quinn stopped her treatment and put the salve down.

"Daria, go see a doctor. Or ask mom to help you,she is going to be **so** delighted seeing that bruise."

Daria reached for the bruise. She was barely able to touch the spot, but in no way to efficiently apply the ointment. Quinn smiled at Daria's futile contortions. She was in for a nice and relaxing back massage.

"Damn. You win. But I can't make any promises."  
«_I'll have to make sure that it sucks big time!_»

Quinn went back to work.  
"I know you'll try your best. That stuff smells really rank."

"Can the small talk, extortionist."

"It's called 'free enterprize'. There. All done."

Quinn capped the jar and handed it back to Daria after she had put her shirt back on.

"I would have said 'thank you', but now ... 'night Quinn."

"'night Daria."

Quinn smirked. Getting the upper hand on her sister wasn't something she could accomplish often.

Daria went back to her room and contemplated a way to get back at her sister. They would be together in the gym on Thursday.  
«_I think I can make sure that you are really going to need that massage..._»


	3. Chapter 3 Assumptions

**Size does matter - Chapter 3**

**by HawkingRadiation**

(aka BlackHole at PPMB/SFMB)**  
**

Story (c)2008 by HawkingRadiation/BlackHole  
Daria and associated characters are (c)2008 MTV Networks

* * *

**Assumptions**

Daria had not slept well. Sleeping in a shirt really annoyed her. That thing was contorted all around her and pinched her in inappropriate places.

As she got ready for the day, she packed some fruits to have a backup in case of 'surprisingly' bad cafeteria food. Anything else was routine, and she did things on auto pilot, but remembered that there was neither PE nor training that day, so there were more options for undergarments. Her mother left the house as she went down for breakfast, and so she quickly shared the paper with her dad. After finishing off her meal and drinks, she cleaned her place. Her sister came downstairs and did not even bother to sit down as she ate some fruits. Daria considered the upcoming evening.

"Dad, you're preparing dinner again?"

"Ah, no kiddo. I've a tightly packed schedule today. But I was planning to pick up some take-out on the way home. How does Chinese sound?"

«_Kiddo my ass._»  
"Chinese isn't bad. If you find a restaurant that does not serve dog as pork and rat as chicken."

"Ewww, Daria. That's so gross."

Jake grinned and shook his head at his older daughter's humor.  
"There's a restaurant with take-out near the office park. They have a lunch buffet, and I saw several of the people from the park walk over there to have lunch. It can't be that bad. And they have a cheery name: 'Good times'. That has such a nice upbeat ring to it."

"Could be the name of a roadhouse with an inter dimensional portal on the backside that serves you dragon for beef. Real dragon."

"Haha, very funny, Daria. Maybe they have an opening as dragon slayer you could do as a part time job. Ah, no, I forgot, you can't. You have to get out of the self-esteem class first."

"Thank you for reminding me, Quinn."

"Girls, please. I'll get Chinese, and I'll get your usual, unless you want something else."

Daria and Quinn shook their heads. Daria wondered whether there was a real Texas style BBQ around. A place where you got decent meat, with a sauce that contained the owners pride, sweat and blood, no cutlery but a bib, and paid your meal by the pound. Beside the temperature, that was one of the things Daria was going to miss.

Daria walked the shortcut to school through the park and the residential areas. That should save her some minutes and embarrassing moments with irritated female convertible drivers. But it did not save her from the need for a warmer jacket for the winter.

* * *

Charles' week sucked big time so far. He had arrived early at the school, not to gawk at the girls, as usual, - these three freshman girls that hung around every morning were some real eye candy - but to make sure to steer clear of her. He had had some business at the office after school yesterday and had used the opportunity to ask about the other tall girl that had arrived. After some flirting with the secretary, she had spilled the name, Quinn, and that her sister had transferred in as well.

He hadn't had all the facts clear at that time, so he did not immediately make the connection. When he did, he didn't like the outcome. Quinn was her sister. And Quinn was befriending those three cute freshman girls. High school had become a very hostile environment for the Ladies' man Charles Ruttheimer III.

* * *

The carrot-top next to Daria in home room was decidedly early, pale and nervous today. Daria didn't know of any upcoming tests that early into the year, so this was most likely for a different reason. She shortly contemplated offering him a mechanical valium, but he seemed in no condition to appreciate that joke. Luckily, he calmed down once Mr. DeMartino entered the room. Poor sap, whatever his problem was.

* * *

Classes were uneventful. Kevin asked her again to try out for football, and she was not sure whether he was really that stupid or if he was trying to make fun of her. Latter was unlikely, as this would require higher brain functions. At least that Brittany girl was civil and just greeted her, which Daria politely returned.

The black girl, 'Jodie' she recalled, approached her between classes.

"Daria, I know you have not completely settled in, but may I interest you in some of our clubs? Beside the sport clubs, there are the usual ones like yearbook and the school paper. We also have a mathletics and debate team, and the drama club does plays. Or maybe you'd rather work in the student council?"

"Look Jodie, you said yourself that I haven't settled in properly. Beside that I have the honour to take this fine institution's 'self-esteem' class for the next three and a half weeks. Between that, my other activities, and school work I do not see any time to join a club. At least right now."

"The frea...aeh, self-esteem class? How did you end up there?"

Daria just shrugged.

"You don't have low self-esteem."

"Tell that to the school shrink. Gotta get going. See you."

Watching Daria's retreating form, Jodie contemplated that information. Daria was different, all right, that was clear to see. She seemed smart, was generally polite but terse, and she mainly kept to herself. Weird kid. Jodie wondered shortly if Daria had any friends at all, but dismissed the thought quickly. Jodie had too many problems of her own to get involved with other peoples' lives.

* * *

After the initial shock, Stacy was rather comfortable around Quinn. She seemed a rather nice person. She didn't flaunt herself. Well, she did, but not intentionally and not into the other girls' faces. She was so superior in that department that she did not need to compete. At least at LHS. And Quinn did not scold her if she'd start to ramble, or to talk nonsense, as Sandi always did. She just told her to focus.

Quinn's fashion sense was superb. Stacy started to understand that once Quinn had told her about the content of her closet. She had to work with very little clothing because getting more was difficult, expensive, and pointless. Quinn did not buy new clothes to accommodate fashion, but her growth. Under those circumstances dressing the way Quinn did was a special feat.

Quinn and Stacy used the time before their class to talk. Without Sandi's presence, Quinn was able to have a normal conversation with Stacy and learned about the trio's history. Sandi obviously had had her good sides before, and Quinn contemplated how good Sandi's good side must have been that Stacy was willing to put up with the abuse from Sandi's bad side. She came to no conclusion and decided to change the topic.

Getting a description of that 'Jane Lane' out of Stacy was not difficult, but it was a little vague. Neither popular nor a jock. A sophomore wearing a red jacket most of the time. But that would likely be good enough to locate her, and then that gal would be given the talk she deserved.

Stacy became suspicious. Why was one of the top tier students interested in a student of the anonymous masses? Did she know something about that Lane girl that nobody else did?

"What's your concern with her?"

Quinn just shrugged.

"She's hanging around with my sister and I want to see what she's like."

«_Daria has already found somebody? That's news._»  
"Hmm. Lanky. Black hair. And I remember her wearing some chunky boots. I think she considers herself an artist."

"I guess that's enough to find her."

"What is it with your sister anyway? I mean, you're both tall, but besides that..."

«_Careful, Quinn. That's likely going to be all over school in a jiffy._»  
"Daria was ill, and that is a long term adverse reaction to the meds she got."  
«_If you consider being very small an illness, growth hormones meds, and a permanently screwed up hormone system an adverse reaction. And omit the changes the uranium in Highland's drinking water caused in both of us._»

Stacy's mind was immediately busy building worst case scenarios and her eyes welled up. Quinn noticed the onset of sobs - Stacy was quite emotional - and started to comfort her.

"Stacy, calm down. Besides being the way she is, Daria is all healthy. All we can do is deal with it, and we can talk about this topic. Ignoring it would make things worse."

Quinn looked into Stacy's eyes to give her the opportunity to look for a lie. There was none, and thus Stacy found no betrayal and calmed down quick enough to enter the classroom on time.

* * *

Ms. Barch anticipated her sophomore science class with the other Morgendorffer girl. From the rumors that billowed through the faculty lounge, she was even more impressive than her younger sister. At least on second sight. And Mr. DeMartino attested her 'deceiving looks', whatever that meant for that weirdo.

Considering the looks of her sister, seating this girl in the back of the classroom would be very necessary, as all those lechers would be thinking of was how to use her, abuse her, and drop her like hot coals after sweeping her accounts. She used the silence of the empty classroom to review the new seating chart when she noted an unfamiliar male silhouette at the door.

"You!"

"Ms. Barch, I presume?"

Ms. Barch took a closer look and found her suspicion refuted.

"Yes, that's me. You're Daria Morgendorffer?"

Ms. Barch barely kept her composure as this Morgendorffer stepped up to her. Besides the glasses, the facial features clearly indicated the relationship between the sisters. Their size was another indicator. However, in terms of figure the girls could hardly be more different. While Quinn was dainty Daria was simply massive. She looked mature enough to be a college freshman. Now Ms. Barch had an idea what Mr. DeMartino meant. He may be male, but he was right on that point.  
«_Female on all accounts. And what a fine specimen of the supreme gender! I can hardly wait for her to show up in my 'Take Back the Night' class._»

"Right."

Ms Barch continued to hand the textbooks to Daria and showed the girl to her seat. Daria sat down and took a look at the textbooks. They were in a bad condition, well worn from many generations of students.

«_I wonder if this biology book is current enough to mention DNA and genetics - or stops at Mendel._»

Daria watched as the students filed into the class and noted that Ms. Barch assigned several to different seats. She had obviously adjusted the seating to accommodate her, but the seating pattern was odd. There was a clear gender-segregation. Male and female students sat in distinct blocks, the male to the front and center, the female in the back and to the sides. Boys and girls never sat in adjacent seats - there was always at least one unoccupied seat between the groups.

«_What's that supposed to mean? We're not in Talibanistan, or am I supposed to wear a burka?_»

Daria noted the dull look on the face of her male classmates entering the class. Odd.

* * *

Jane was dead tired. After her conversation with Trent in the evening she had thought what effects her actions would have on Daria. She didn't like the conclusion she reached. Avoiding Daria was rather selfish. She would have to face the music and apologize. And better fast, since procrastinating wouldn't do any good.

She had decided to do so after the self-esteem class, that would provide more privacy than any other time throughout the day that she and Daria met. And gave her some additional time to think about what to say. At least, it seemed, her attraction to Daria was declining. Certain facts were slowly arriving at her subconscious. Jane knew that she would not have been able to utter a single word to Daria if she was still crushing on her.

«_I can't remember if I was ever that disturbed before._»

She managed to look Daria in the eyes before science class without mad blushing and other suspicious behavior. That was some real progress.

* * *

Walking towards the lunchroom Daria reflected on the progress of the science class. There was no doubt that Ms. Barch had some real gender issues. She had not missed a single opportunity to talk derogatory about everything male - even making some seriously far fetched associations. The boys sat there like statues. No chatter. No notes - taken or passed. No hands risen on questions. Petrified by the Medusa's gaze. There was no chatter among the girls either, but Daria saw a note or two being passed about. Ms. Barch would rant at any boy that she asked to answer a question, no matter whether the answer was correct or not. Girls answering the questions were praised - again regardless of the quality of the answer. Wrong answers would, however, be corrected in patience; as long as given by a girl.

Unless Ms. Barch was a rape victim - and she seemed much too aggressive for that - Daria could come up with just a single event that could have turned that woman into a psychopath: bitter divorcee.

«_That with many added years of sexual frustration._»

* * *

Dawn walked over to the pair of girls at the end of the lunch table. She moved her headphones down to her neck to have a real conversation. The girls looked up from their lunch at her approach and looked at her. Dawn saw recognition in the girls' eyes, as she shared some classes with them.

"Hi. You're Daria?"

The big girl nodded.

"I'm Dawn, and I'm the public relations officer of Lawndale High's 'Rainbow Society', that's the..."

"... local gay and lesbian association, right?"

Dawn was a little put back by the blunt interruption. The petite girl across from Daria seemed to perk up a little, but Daria's expression was no-nonsense - at best. Dawn nodded.

"Ok then, Dawn, I have something I'd like you to publicly relate to all members of your 'Rainbow society'. I won't become a member because I'm not a lesbian. I'm not even bisexual. And I would really appreciate it if your members would take my word for it and save me and them the hassle of making passes at me. Got that?"

Sudden pain shot through Scarlett's heart. Her well-developed crush turned out to be permanently unavailable. She started to understand why Daria had been so abrasive towards her. A straight girl with her looks would have been hit on by lesbians quite often, and thus have a sophisticated gaydar. Scarlett felt her eyes well up and shot towards the bathroom to save her dignity.

Daria watched her exit with an uneasy feeling.  
«_Ah, crap, exactly as I thought._»

"Uh, so you like guys."

"Guys, and only guys. I'm positive on that. And I tell you my life would be easier if I didn't."

"You got hit on by a lot of girls?"

That was more a statement than a question. Dawn knew that if Daria was into girls, she would have the free choice among most club members. And that did include the girls that were currently attached. With a strong, taut body and a nice soft face she had a killer appeal. One of the girls had eyed her in the shower after PE and used the word 'spectacular' to describe the view.

"Girls who are looking for a girl as well as girls who are looking for a boy. That gets old rather fast until it becomes just annoying."

"And what is it with your friend?"

"My friend? Ah, her. She ain't exactly a friend of mine. Likely a potential member for your society that just got some unpleasant facts shoved into her face."

"Oh."

"Go recruit her. And do me a favor and spread the word so that this won't happen again. At least not as often."

"Ah... ok, I'll do that. See you."

"Bye Dawn."

The conversation had left Daria without any appetite. The way Scarlett had acted proved her suspicion about her motives right. Daria looked at her tray, the tray Scarlett had left, stacked them together and returned both before going into the school yard to get away from everything - at least for a while.

* * *

Sandi left the toilet stall and headed for the sinks when she saw her. Her jacket was off, hanging over her backpack sitting on the floor while she was cleaning her hands. Her muscles shifted under the thin orange T-shirt she was wearing. Sandi was mesmerized and simply stared.

Daria finished her business and started to pick up her belongings as she saw the girl from the convertible staring at her. She stared back for a moment, but the girl did not react. Daria spoke up.

"Don't forget to blink. That's bad for the eyes."

Her voice brought Sandi back to reality, and she realized that the girl, Daria was her name, Sandi remembered, was already done and had spotted her staring.

"I was just wat... uhm, waiting for you to leave. Like I would stand beside someone like you."

«_Complete nutcase._»  
"Funny, the events of yesterday's morning gave me a different impression."

That said, Daria left the restroom without looking back.

* * *

Jane walked into the class room for the self-esteem class at about the last minute before the class started. With her art class just before, she was always a little late. She spotted Daria in her 'usual' seat around the center of the room and set her plan in motion. Therefore, she chose a seat to Daria's left, that gave her the option to intercept the other girl before she left the class. She would talk to her then.

Jane noticed Daria looking at her as she entered, and even if their eyes hardly locked, Jane again noticed some embarrassment. But she had her feelings sorted out - at least a little better than Monday evening. Daria was attractive, but she did not feel attracted to her. Well, at least not in that sense. The girl was an outcast like her, who merely reacted to people. Jane had never seen Daria interacted with anybody. She was brief, but always curt. She did not cut anybody down - at least not verbally, as far as Jane could tell - but would likely not put up with any crap.

«_Maybe a kindred soul._»

The class passed, but at the end Jane's courage left her and she could not bring herself to apologize to Daria. The memory was still too fresh, her inner thoughts were still too much in turmoil. She would talk to her tomorrow. For sure.

* * *

The Fashion Club plus Quinn met up after school, but Quinn did not stay longer than necessary to exchange some basic pleasantries. This Sandi Griffin would take a while to get used to and she had still too much school work to do to make up for having missed the first two weeks of classes.

Once Quinn was out of earshot, Stacy relayed her latest information.  
"I think that Daria girl has already met someone."

"Gee, Stacy, that is obvious. If you haven't heard about the lesbian lovers' quarrel during the sophomores' lunch period you must be completely out of the gossip network."

"Yeaaah, the small girl was reaaaally cryyying."

"I didn't mean that, Sandi. I heard she's with that Jane Lane, the art chick from sophomore class."

"So she's at LHS merely three days and already trading one girlfriend for the next. Like I said, she's a total slut."

Sandi found her assumption verified, but was unsure how to feel about it. Her head said something different than her gut.

"That is soooooo meaaaan." Tiffany stated her disdain.

"But Sandi, we don't know..."

"Stacy, would you please look at the facts and not let your admiration for that Quinn girl distort your thoughts. There was the incident at lunch and now **you** are saying she's with Lane. Supposing your information is reliable, what do you make of it?"

"Well, it would seem as if that could have happened."

Sandi was a little surprised that Stacy did not doubt her information on Daria being with that art chick. That was potentially dangerous, as Sandi hadn't heard the slightest hint at that development.

"Where did you get that, anyway."

"Quinn asked me who Jane is. Because Jane was hanging around with Daria, she said."

Tiffany looked up from her compact as she contemplated Stacy's statement, but remained silent. Sandi noted the implication as well, but was not sure if Stacy's behaviour would justify a scolding for treachery.

"So, that seems to be a rather reliable source. Contributing to the conclusion's reliability: She's a slut. Even you should get that now, Stacy."

"Yes, Sandi" was Stacy's meek answer, the same she had given hundreds of times before.

* * *

The evening was uneventful. Her dad brought the Chinese take-out, her mother was late, the homework dull. Catching up with the school work was not a problem either, and Quinn did not bother her. Daria tried to write a little, but her mind was not into it. The move and the situation at school gave her too much to think about. Too many people were staring at her, talking to and about her, and concentrating their attention on her.

Daria thought back to the time when she could just blend in. Unless she had wanted to, hardly anybody had noticed her. She had been able do as she pleased without being under constant scrutiny. Given, constantly being mistaken for a much younger girl had not pleased her at that time. And being small and brainy had made her the target of some mockery, but people had left her alone in general. Life had been simpler back then.

«_It's funny. Back then I wished I was taller, now I am - and now I wish I was smaller. Be careful what you wish for._»

Daria contemplated watching some TV, but remembered the defective cable connection. The remote in her hand, she sat on her bed and stared at the blank TV screen and replayed the day's events. The conversation during lunch struck her most. Not the fact that the lesbians had tried to recruit her, that was kind of a given. But the way Scarlet had reacted. She had hurt somebody without even trying. Again.

«_Goddamn, is it my fault that I do not like girls?_»

No longer having to share a room with her her sister was the highlight of the move. Quinn was a busybody and just too noisy for Daria's taste. Blocking her out was really hard from time to time. But the padding on the room's walls topped it all. Initially installed to prevent the schizophrenic woman living in the room from injuring herself, it also provided excellent sound dampening. Daria had the suspicion that the latter had been more than a coincidental side effect. It was a pity that they had to replace the door, as now the sounds of the hallway were clearly audible.

«_Well, the new door has a knob on the inside as well. Being able to get out of your room on your own has its perks._»

* * *

"Daria. Daria."

"Huh?"

Daria slowly drifted back into consciousness and adjusted her glasses. A quick glance at the clock told her that nearly two hours had passed since her last check. She looked over to her father standing at her door.

"You should change out of your street clothes and go back to bed."

Daria's brain had finished its boot up procedure and she started to realize that she had fallen asleep on her bed. She looked at her bedside clock again.

"Uh, yeah, it's a little early, but I think you're right."

Daria sat up and expected her father to leave, but he didn't.

"About Friday evening, the training's two hours?"

"Three, but I suspect that includes some social event. I'll cut things short so you'll only have to wait for an hour. Driving back would be a waste."

Jake chuckled.  
"7 to 10 then. I'm gonna give you a ride, and there's something for me to do in Oakwood around that time, so take your time."

Daria rose an eyebrow and her father continued.

"A local weekly business men's meeting. Just chat a little, exchange some hints and network. Starts at 8, but I can amuse myself at the mall until then."

Daria rose her eyebrow further.  
"That's a ... pleasant coincidence."

"For sure, so I can give you a ride and promote business! But please don't tell your mom, she doesn't need to know that I work late as well and hates those 'old boys' networks'."

«_A business men's meeting Friday starting at 8 that mom should not know about? For sure. If it wasn't you, I'd say you're meeting with friends at a strip joint. Thank god you're listed as 'mostly harmless'._»  
"I won't dad - I get my ride out of it."

Her father left with a nod, closing the door. She went through her evening hygiene on automatic as she would do in the morning and contemplated whether it was possible to go through three more years of high school that way. With a sufficient supply of booze and dope she could give herself a nice street lobotomy. But she neither had that kind of money, nor was that a long-term solution.

«_Maybe not long-term, but final._» she chuckled to herself.

«_I've hardly spoken to Quinn all day. Well, no news is good news._» were Daria's last thoughts of that day.


	4. Chapter 4 Monitoring

**Size does matter - Chapter 4**

**by HawkingRadiation  
**(aka BlackHole at PPMB, SFMB)**  
**

Story (c)2008 by HawkingRadiation (BlackHole)  
Daria and associated characters are (c)2008 MTV Networks

* * *

**Monitoring**

Thursday was a drag. Getting up and ready including a breakfast was a quick affair, Daria's and Quinn's mother had already left for work. Daria was starting to share her father's uneasy feelings concerning Helen's workload. Quinn was rather busy catching up with school work and hence a little morose.

Both girls used the shortcut through the park to school, and given the cold temperatures around that time of the year in Lawndale, Daria was rather motivated to get back indoors ASAP. That instantly reminded her that - as much as she hated to do it - she'd have to do some clothes shopping before autumn turned into winter, and scheduled that some time next week.

Home room was boring, and the announcements held nothing of Daria's interests. Her classmates did her a major favor and just left her alone. History was fun in its own way. Besides being among Daria's favourite subjects, the teacher was motivated and did not put up with any crap the students gave him. Class participation was marginal, and Daria was starting to gather a major difference between HHS and LHS. In HHS most students were bad because they didn't know better. In LHS most students were bad because they didn't care. Daria wasn't sure what was worse, but knew that Quinn would fit in perfectly with the latter group.

The black girl, Jodie was her name, talked again to — or rather at — Daria about her work in the student council. She did not ask her to participate, but her move to arouse Daria's interest or curiosity was too plain to be effective. Daria nodded and 'hmm'd where appropriate, but did not really listen. Jodie's boyfriend, Mack, tried to get some attention from her, but was cut short when that stupid jock, Kevin, Daria reminded herself, asked about something concerning the football team. Seeing Mack go off after being called 'Mack Daddy' was one of the highlights.

Math was boring as ever. Daria was looking forward to joining the AP class next year. She never understood how people could have problems with memorizing a few theorems and rules and applying them. The left and the right side of the '' were the same just written differently. If one looks at it in a certain way, math never produced anything new.

PE turned out to be OK. At least there was no commotion in the locker room and none of the girls acted hostile. There wasn't a DMZ around her as if she was a leper, either, a fact that really pleased Daria. There was no overt ogling either, so the news of yesterday's lunch likely had spread. The coach made sure that everyone was working, and it was interesting to see how fast the Lane girl was sent off running laps again. Daria would have made a bet she and the coach had an agreement of some sort. Maybe she could arrange something for herself to get out of the cheerleader practice a.k.a. gymnastics. Kama sutra and Tantra training should be done in private and would be much more entertaining with an appropriate training partner.

* * *

Before hitting the shower after PE Daria approached Ms. Morris again.

"Ms. Morris, my sister and I will be at the girls' gym in the afternoon today."

"I'm looking forward to see you girls. The girls' gym doesn't draw a crowd, seeing some new faces is going to be nice."

"Hmm, I wanted to ask you about the daily open gym. You said it's an hour before school?"

"The gym opens at seven and at eight everybody has to hit the showers. This gives you 15 minutes until home room starts. Tight schedule, but manageable."

"Unless you need forty minutes to plaster some gunk on your face. OK, so no problem for me."

"Aeh, Daria, why are you asking about the open gym if there's girls' gym twice a week?"

"I think the daily slot fits my day better. And an hour of gym is sufficient. If you're not done for after an hour of gym, you're either Hercules or picking your nose."

Ms. Morris chuckled.  
"Well, yes, the girls can lose their focus a little. But that is not ... well ... it's just that the daily slot is only used by guys."

"This is not a designated boys' only slot, is it?"

"No, it's open for everybody, but, I mean, being the only girl, wouldn't you be uncomfortable?"

"I think not, but I'll just try and see."

«_You do not get what I mean._»  
"Well, that's for sure. But be prepared to be surrounded by football players."

Daria shrugged.  
"If I went to a public gym I'd be surrounded by all kinds of strange guys."

"OK, go and try."

"Thanks, bye."

"Bye."

Ms. Manson watched Daria vanish into the locker room. She was not sure if a girl training with the football team was such a bright idea. Even if it took you a second glance, Daria still was a girl. It was doubtful that the team would welcome an alien to their 'team time', even if the gym was gernerally open to the public. Ms. Morris would give Coach Gibson some advance warning so he would be prepared for a girl intruding. Well, seeing Daria train in the afternoon would help with the evaluation of the situation.

«_A girl training in a gym with a gaggle of horny teenage boys. She's either crazy or has more cojones than her natural design provides._»

* * *

"Fellow Fashion Club members, I'd like to commemorate the excursion to Cashman's today after school. The new line of angora turtleneck sweaters is coming in today and we have to prepare for the end of winter. We'll meet at my car after school."

"Yeaaah, Sandi."

Stacy looked into her omnipresent notebook tp confirm the details of the expedition.  
"Yes, we need to be the first to scan the new collection so we do not fall behind the current fashion as it happened to me when I was, omygod, I'm wearing the shirt right now, omygod, I'm so..."  
Stacy started to hyperventilate as the guilt and embarrassment came back.

"STACY! Slow! Breathe! The shirt is fine with the pair of pants you are wearing now!"

Quinn approached the group after she had changed her books at her locker. Those girls were not her first choice, but she needed to start somewhere to make some friends.  
"Hi. Ready for music, Tiffany?"

"Yeaaah."

Delighted to see the new girl, Stacy welcomed her as well.  
"Hey Quinn, we're going to Cashman's after school today to screen the new sweaters arriving this morning, would you like to join us?"

Sandi shot her secretary a disapproving glare; how could she take the initiative and invite that skank that was likely going to be a serious problem for the Fashion Club without consulting the president first? Stacy immediately went wide eyed as she realized what she had done. This was a serious violation of the hierarchy. She was in trouble.

"Yes Quinn, I was about to extend that invitation to you." Sandi took control again.

"Ah, thanks, but I won't be able to make it today."

Sandi was relieved. Maybe she could spin the situation to her advantage.

"Gee, Quinn, that is so sad. Is your model job-thingy taking up so much of your time that you won't be able to stay fashionable?"

"No, it's not my job. I've training today."

"Like, physical training? That get's you all sweaty? Quinn, I'm sorry to inform you that this is not an activity that is suitable for a member of the Fashion Club. And just think how those jock chicks look like with muscles everywhere."  
«_Like those incredible...stop it, Griffin._»

"It's not that I want to, Sandi. Mom's forcing me."

"So, you let your mother dictate your schedule?"

"It's more the doctor. 'You need to exercise your muscles to keep up with your skeleton'. Mom just turned 'need' to 'must'."

"What kind of training do you do?" asked Stacy.

"Gym; boring muscle training."

"There's some 'girls only' time at the school gym, today right after school. You attend that?"

"Stacy, how come you know about the extracurricular sport activities at LHS?" Sandi interjected.

"I need to. The gossip must be processed according to groups spreading it and its possible origin, and as the jocks are an important source ..."

"It's ok, Stacy." Sandi stalled the girl with the pigtails.  
"So Quinn, maybe you can join us later. **If** you can get a ride to the mall."

«_Let them not find out that mom's having Daria monitor me..._»  
"I doubt I'll be able to much more than head home after training. That is really tiring."

"Quinn, for someone not willing to exercise you put in an awful lot of effort if you'll too tired to go to the mall afterwards."

"I don't like the exercise and I would never do it on my own. You get sweaty and icky and wear uncute clothes, because cute clothes would be ruined immediately. I complained, but mom's making me go anyway."

"So you're not smart enough to simply skip out of the training and lie to your mom? Oh, Quinn, you still have so much to learn." mocked Sandi.

"I skipped training exactly once - and **I** am smart enough not to do that ever again. Mom **will** somehow find out. This would get me grounded until I'm, like, thirty."  
«_And my coach happens to live just one door down the hallway..._»

"Thaaaat's soooo mean of yooooour mom." Tiffany stated her sympathy.

"Your mom is keeping you under surveillance. Gee, Quinn, I would be so pissed if my mother would even suggest such a thing."

«_I bet she better did. 24/7._»  
"Sandi, my mom can be **very** creative if she seriously wants something happen. Like me doing my exercises."

"Well, if you say so, Quinn. But be careful not to exercise too much. We don't want you to grow muscles all over like those jock chicks."

A collective 'EWWWW' was the answer and the girls split up to their respective classes.

«_But the right amount of muscles can really enhance your figure; nice legs, arms, a flat and well defined tummy. And exercise burns fat. Hmm, pizza with the works instead of the cheeseless cardbord stuff. Yummy. Maybe ..._»

* * *

The students arranged themselves caste-wise at the lunch room's tables. The difference between HHS and LHS was that the tables did not have strictly fixed assignments, but were dynamically occupied. Some tables were left for the untouchables, outsiders like Daria herself. She was halfway through her meal without any interruption or interaction when she noticed Scarlett approaching her after returning her tray. Daria looked up as she stood across from her, slightly nervous.

«_No stupid stuff. No TV-grade drama. PLEASE._»  
Daria was unsure what was going to happen, so she waited for her to make the first move.

"Uhm, sorry?" Scarlett finally started with a slight blush.

"Aeh, It's OK. But ... what for?"

"I mistook you, and I really..." Scarlett looked embarrassedly away.

"You aren't the first and you won't be the last. I have to accept that."

"But..."

Daria resumed eating as the conversation was stalled.

"But..?" Daria tried to coax her a little, and noted on the side that they were not drawing to much attention. She continued her meal.

"But..."

Daria looked up again, but as no more words were spoken she focussed her attention back on her meal. Lunch time was limited.

"But..."

«_Time for some comic relief._»  
"And I thought a butt-fetish could be found only among guys."

"Hu? What?" Scarlett was in no condition to follow that mental leap.

"You were saying...?"

"I ran out on you like you were the Dark One himself." Scarlett blurted her problem out, still confused by Daria's previous comment. The then ensuing blush indicated that she finally not only understood, but took that a little personally.

"And likely barfed like I smelled like his feet, too. Sounds like I got the better deal out of it."

"But..."

"Look: You apologised, I accepted, and now we continue our lives."

Daria sorted her tray and prepared to get up.

"Could we be friends?"

Daria looked up and stared at the other girl, making her squirm. She was surprised by the use of the f-word. That had not happened often to her and she could really use a friend. But this would not be right. She might become happy, but Scarlett surely would be hurt in the long run. Better a miserable ending than misery without end.

"No. At least not now."

Daria got up.

"But..."

"No. You need to move on and me being around would hold you back. Later."

That said, Daria picked up her tray, returned it and left the lunch room completely aware that she had just ripped someone's heart out on purpose.  
«_Crap. Why me?_»

* * *

Science class was generally boring. Barch's patient explanations to the girls that did not understand the material were laudable, but made class progress like a slug on barbiturate. Her rants on everything equipped with XY chromosomes did not add to the class's interest. Daria did not dare to pull out a book and start reading, but practicing rhymes for poems could be camouflaged as taking notes.

Following the class to the extent that she was able to answer all questions was easy. The girl beside her shyed a little away from her at one time. She had likely misunderstood the poem she was working on. Given, it was rather graphic, but 'ripping out her heart' was meant metaphorically. Really.

«_But hurts almost the same._»

Daria wondered what the rumor mill would make out of that.

* * *

Daria was at her locker changing her books between classes as she overheard some guys talking among themselves while they slowly walked down the hallway.

"Incredible."

"Yeah, I can't believe she's a chick. So massive..."

Daria closed her locker. She was nearly sure that she was the topic of the conversation. 'Massive' was ... ok. She had been called worse.

"You saw the other one?"

"Hell, yes. Legs, legs, legs, more legs ... and then this fabulous piece of ass. She's nearly perfect."

Daria did not like it when anyone referred to anybody else as an object. Especially not her sister, whom they were obviously talking about. She decided to listen in a little and matched her pace with the boys'. While Daria was no gossip, she liked to be well informed, even from unreliable sources. Every hint could give you give a serious advantage later on.

"Nearly? Man, you gotta lay off the drugs. Girls don't get any hotter."

"Dude, she's hot as white glowing iron, but she's too perfect. That kind of women is out of my league. And out of yours as well. No way any of us needs to even ask her out."

"Hmm, you could be right. She's kind of too much. She has for sure dates lined up all around the block."

There it was again, Quinn's blessing and bane. She was perfect enough to scare guys away. Well, at least this way the number of Quinn's dates would only go up to 'a gaggle', and not to 'a crowd'. Less humiliation for herself.

"For sure. And dating a taller girl is always a little awkward. A girl has to step on her toes to kiss you - not the other way round."

"You're right. Have you noticed she doesn't even wear heels? If she did, even the basketball team would be on the short side."

"She doesn't? Damn, and even without her legs go on forever. And with heels..."

"Stop drooling, dude. Just imagine yourself dating that other chick, that should help. I can tell you who'd wear the pants among the two of you..."

"Brr, stop it, that's ... that's like me dating you. I'm not sure about you, but I like them female. You know, TnA and cuddly."

The guys laughed at the teasing among themselves, not noticing the subject of their mockery being within hearing range.

"I bet she has more chest hair than you!"

Daria left her listening post by turning into the hallway that led to her next class while the joking boys went straight on. «_Nope, I haven't. I hope things stay at this level. That, I can bear._»

* * *

English and self-esteem class were uneventful. However, two hours of Mr. O'Neill in a row was something that should be limited to Gitmo. Without the upcoming visit to the gym to look forward to, Daria would have to come up with some serious ideas how to prevent her brain from leaving her skull, but conceiving a low-key high-impact scheme to prepare Quinn for her massage was really enjoyable. Daria was coming up with numerous tiny things that could be adapted and combined depending on the situation. It was important to make sure that her actions would not backfire at her through their mother. But Daria would start off with the simplest plan: Assuming Quinn had skipped her training during the summer, which was very likely, sticking to her normal training plan would be a very suitable starting point for Quinn's journey to misery.

* * *

Ms. Morris watched the few regulars do their exercises in the gym. This made things easy, as they knew what to do and what not. She reviewed the funding reports for the current school year sitting on a bench, glancing every now and then around the gym, and did every twenty minutes a slow round through the room, speaking hushed words of encouragement and minor corrections to the girls. The room's silence was only interrupted by weights' 'clink'ing and a little huffing and groaning once one of the girls pushed her limits.

The girls only gym was a good thing. The girls did not come here to be seen, but to train. This also meant that the less attractive girls did come in to train, which was good. Weights did not care how you look. They only cared how strong you were.

After the first hour approached its end, the gym emptied a little as most girls finished their training. The last hour would be even quieter than the first; maybe she could even close up a little earlier today.

She knew she had forgotten something when the Morgendorffer girls entered from the locker room. Quinn, the freshman, wore her LHS issued PE t-shirt and long trousers. Daria wore the uniform's training shorts, but wore nothing more than a sturdy sports bra as a top. And looking at her build, Ms. Morris figured that this was not to troll for boys, but to make training bearable. Daria spotted her and simply nodded as she steered her sister over to the cardiac exercise machines to warm up.

Seeing that the few other girls left had stopped their training and gawked at the new arrivals.

"The two new giants! Giantesses." one girl exclaimed hushed to the girl on the next machine.

"Damn. Look at them. The red head's just tall, but the other...you're sure that the bra isn't just cross-dressing?" was the hushed answer, but in the silence of gym the words were audible everywhere.

The coach decided to gave them a hushed explanation before she got a replay of Tuesday's episode in PE and headed over to the girls. She would give Daria and Quinn some leeway initially and just watch; she had the hunch that they knew their way around in a gym and would not need supervision, as the rest of the regulars.

* * *

Warming up on the exercise bikes, the steppers and the rudder machine was a ritual for Daria and a task that Quinn was able to complete without her supervision.

Daria walked over to the barbells and loaded one lightly to do some leg training while Quinn went to the sit-up-machine. Daria moved rapidly and concentrated through her sets. As she put the barbell back in place, she looked over at Quinn and did not like what she saw.

«_I wasn't sure whether I should give you a reason to need a massage. Now I am, Ms. Sloth._»

* * *

Ms. Morris watched the new arrivals systematically warm up and then split up for different exercises. Quinn headed over likely to do some abs training. She fumbled a while to set up the machine. With her height, she had to make every adjustment possible to fit properly. She then started her sets, but was not really enthusiastic.

Daria went over to the free weights section and seriously loaded a barbell and started doing knee bends in quick succession. Afterwards she shifted to lifting for her shoulders. Then did some reverse biceps curls above head level. Given the quick succession of the sets, that was an impressive display of strength and endurance, well above the level of the other girls in the gym.

"Oh my... You're seeing that? Look at all that iron!"

"All that iron? Look at all that muscles!"

"And you're really sure it's a girl?" a third girl asked in a hushed voice after she had walked over to Ms. Morris and the other girls.

"Yes, girl all over. My sister shares PE with her. Lots of girl."

Daria could not help but overhear even the whispered conversation. Luckily, that were more or less the comments she was expecting.  
«_Damn. I hope there's none of that rainbow society folks around._»

"I will not end like this if I keep my current training level, will I?" on girl asked.

Ms. Morris shook her head and could placate the girls that this was unlikely to happen unless they started train like mad.  
"And girls, staring is rude. Get moving or get in the shower."

«_And you'd need to start popping some serious steroids. Just ask the vet of your choice._»  
Daria was happy to see how considerate Ms. Morris was. She really hated to be in the spotlight all the time, and had hoped that the people in the gym would just ignore her.

Ms. Morris had to agree with the girls, Daria's body was a piece of art - but it did not really fit a girl. She was not as excessively muscular as some female body builders, but definitely too muscular for a girl. She did not really fit in here, having to re-adjust every weight she put her hands on. She was far more focused than the other girls and trained different muscle groups.

"I bet the other has signed her name in blood to get that figure. She's just 'whoa'."

"Those legs won't end - and not an ounce of fat out of place."

"They're so alike and so different..."

Ms. Morris looked back at the girls and shot them a nasty glare.  
"They're sisters, Ladies. Get movin'!"

Her tone made it clear to them that they were about to cross a line. They picked their exercises up again and just shot some clandestine glances at the newcomers every now and then.

Ms. Morris noticed the by-the-book handling of the equipment that Daria had to avoid accidents and to train for maximum effect with the lowest risk of an injury. That girl knew her way around a gym. She saw a Daria glistening with sweat watch her sister a while and put down the barbell. In the silence of the gym she did not even have to eavesdrop to understand the following conversation.

* * *

A profoundly sweaty Daria walked over to Quinn who took a drink from her bottle. Daria's sports bra was soaked and showed more than Quinn deemed decent. Her muscles glistened with sweat, and despite her efforts to clean herself up on a towel, she was dripping on the floor.

"Quinn, you just completed the workout at the sit-up-machine?"

"Yes, 30 pounds, 15 repetitions, three sets."

"Yes, of course. And because you are so well trained, you didn't even sweat."

"Sure I did! Look, I'm getting all icky!" Quinn said in disdain and rose her arms to show her armpits to her sister.

"Yeah, I can see you're sweaty all over and gave everything you have."  
Daria pointed at the weights that were clearly set to 15 pounds.

"Oops, I didn't notice." Quinn said with her patented 'innocent girl' smile. That hadn't worked on Daria for at least ten years.

"Of course not. And because you could not notice the difference between 15 and 30 pounds you surely need more training. Let me help you."

Daria set the weights to 35 pounds. Quinn tried to get away, but Daria's firm hand on her shoulder made it clear that she would not weasel out of it.  
«_I recall we have a score to settle, Ms. Sloth._»

* * *

Ms. Morris could not help it, she had to smile. On the difference between the sisters when it came to things physical, and how Daria moved in on Quinn. It was nice to see that Quinn had a competent personal trainer that made sure that her weaker self would not prevail.

* * *

"And now repeat the complete excercise. Properly. Up, hold, down. Let's go."

Quinn looked pleading into Daria's eyes, and could immediately tell that any complaining would be futile. She knew that Helen had given Daria the authority to make sure Quinn did her exercises. Daria would not do a thing if she was to defy her. Beside telling their mother, and that was a really bad idea. Daria did not even move to continue her own exercises. She wouldn't even be able to 'miscount' a little.

"Quinn, you are going to sweat today, no matter whether you like it or not. You need to and I will make you - if I have to. Get going, Quinn. Up. Hold. Down."

Daria watched Quinn through her exercise. Her sister had such a perfect body that made her envious every time she was exposed to it. Daria had considered stopping her training once she became aware that getting muscular all over was not necessarily advantageous for a girl. The doctors told her that her bones had already grown to adjust to her activities and there was no way that she would ever be lanky again. So the options were just 'big and muscular' or 'big and flabby'. Daria had been vain enough to chose the first option.

Daria made sure that Quinn did this one by the book, with 45 seconds between the sets and not a second more. During the last five repetitions of set three, Daria gave Quinn a hand as she had obviously reached her limit.

Quinn sat completely exhausted on the machine and used her own towel to mop up the sweat that oozed from her every pore. Daria handed her the water bottle and left.  
«_Thank god she's going to do her own training. I was afraid she would be on my back and put me through the wringer today._»

* * *

Ms. Morris was delighted to see the professional monitoring Daria did and how she supported her sister once she noted her approaching her limit. This way she could push her sister to her limits without endangering her health. If you had to hire a trainer like that, you'd have to pay serious money. She was not happy when she saw Daria remove a dumbbell from the free weights section, but decided to trust her enough to let it slide. She was more interested in what would happen next.

* * *

Quinn's hope was crushed when Daria came back with a heavy looking dumbbell. Daria was not planning to leave her side until they were home again.

"Now, you did the training for the abs. We're now doing something new, the same stuff for the back. Let me adjust the machine."

Quinn got up and Daria used practiced motions to change the machine. Quinn was relieved as she saw her sister set the weights to 10 pounds.

"Ok, now put your hips against that padding, and rest your heels against this. Now put the pulley behind your shoulders. Yes, you need to go prone. Now erect yourself. That's it. 10 - 15 - 3. Go."

Quinn was shocked how much she had to struggle with the meager 10 pounds now. Daria stayed next to her and picked up the dumbbell to do some biceps curls on the side while she monitored Quinn. Quinn struggled through the first set, was on her last legs through the second set and required Daria's continuous assistance through the third. She was wiped and came to the dreadful conclusion that Daria was going to push her to her limits today.

"Now the legs. Get up, we don't have all day. Move Quinn, get over there, I know you like your legs in good shape. And it helps your job. Do your exercises on your own, but I'm watching."

Daria pushed her towards the leg trainer, and Quinn willy-nilly set it up (properly this time) and started. Daria took a sip from her own bottle and worked further on her arms. Someway into the second set of Quinn's second exercise Daria had to intervene again.

* * *

The girls watched with awe at how Daria commandeered her sister through her exercises.

"Uh, whoa, that's brutal."

"She's pushing her. Hard."

There was an aura of authority around Daria that was compelling. She raised her voice every now and then to nudge her sister on.

"I don't know If I'd be able to say 'No'..."

"Me neither."

Daria heard that as well, only Quinn was too caught up in her exercises to care for her surroundings.  
«_She may be my sister, but she has made it personal. She deserves just the best._»

* * *

"Quinn, physiotherapy is to increase your health, not to ruin it. And if you keep repeating that excercise that way, you will ruin your knee and your ankles. Form a straight line. Right. That way. Now keep it that way."

Daria returned the dumbbell, walked over to the next machine and set it up for her own exercises. She had to adjust about every adjustable setting on the machine to fit her frame - especially the weights. She looked back at Quinn, who was doing her exercises rather half-assed. Daria spoke up.

"At home it's hard to get you to look anywhere else but the mirror, but you ignore those in here. They have been placed in here for a reason. And that's not for you to check if your make-up is smudged. Watch yourself and monitor your movements!"

Quinn looked over to her sister with an annoyed expression, but she did as she was told. If Daria said so, she could really ruin her health if she didn't.

* * *

The professional way Daria coached her sister struck Ms. Morris. She would not even overlook theslightest misalignment or malposition. Depending on the severeness of the error Daria would just correct Quinn, or scold her. Daria let her have breaks, but only short ones so her heart rate would not drop too far. Daria would assist, but only if Quinn really reached her limits. Ms. Morris was sure Daria started to work against Quinn the one and only time that Quinn tried to coax her sister into doing the work. Daria was not just a proficient sportswoman, but a competent coach as well. She gave the less than enthusiastic Quinn a really nice workover.

* * *

The girls continued to watch Daria and Quinn, as they had gotten from the little talk between the two tall girls. They met discreetly between their own exercises to compare their notes and managed not to upset Ms. Morris any further.

"She's like a drill instructor. On a good day."

"That's her sister there. Picture her coaching someone else."

The girls just looked at each other as they imagined themselves in that position. An image they did not like.

"Does she need a dictionary to look up 'mercy'?"

«_I doubt it would be nearly so much fun with someone else_» was Daria's only thought on that.

* * *

The training seemed to last an eternity. Daria worked her hard as she had never done before. Quinn had learned that cutting corners meant a complete repeat, so she complied. She noted the wondering glances the few other girls shot at the siblings, but Quinn hoped that the girls' focus was on Daria in drill sergeant mode and not on her unfashionable and icky appearance and mediocre performance. Her water ran out prior to the penultimate exercise, but Daria just made her continue. In the end, Daria had to nearly continuously assist her.

Once she was finished Daria handed her her half filled water bottle. Sharing like this was unsanitary, but Quinn did not have enough energy to care and started to drain it in one go.

"Whoa, slow down, tiger."  
Daria had a hard time not grinning. Someone had not kept up with her exercises during the summer. Beside that back exercises she didn't add or intensify a single exercise, but Quinn was completely pooped. Luckily there was no PE tomorrow, as she was sure that Quinn was going be sore all over.

Daria gave the bottle back after some seconds and let her sister drain it in the second go. After some minutes, Daria carried/dragged Quinn into the locker room. Daria undressed while Quinn was slumped in front of her locker and tried to get he bearings.

"Quinn, we need to get going. Mom or dad will be waiting to pick us up and Coach Morris will want to lock up on time."

How done Quinn was for Daria realized as she complained neither as Daria started to help her to undress nor as she led her stark naked over to the showers while some other girls were around. Quinn would have never ever gone along with it, if she had been really aware of it. She was obvious beyond caring. At least Quinn cleaned herself up on her own once she was put under a nice lukewarm shower.

Daria showered herself and divided her attention between Quinn under the nozzle next to her and the three other girls in the shower. She had not seen any of them and they seemed to have seen neither Quinn nor Daria before. Especially not stark naked in the shower. But the reactions didnot differ much from those Daria had gotten during her regular PE class. The rumor mill in the upper classes would be fed new facts, and they were the first to be able to make a direct comparison between the model and the freak. Daria knew that without her glasses there was no way to deny the familarity between herself and Quinn, but besides that their size was the only thing they had in common.

"Quinn, we need to get dressed. Sorry, but you can't stay under that comfy shower forever."

Quinn looked up, shook the cobwebs from her brain, turned the water off and nodded at her sister. Daria smirked at the slight blush that spread over the creamy skin of the red head as she realized that she had only a small shower towel at hand that would at most cover two of the critical regions. Quinn covered her front with the towel on the way to her locker, and mooned everybody who cared to look.

«_God, Quinn, we're all girls in here. There is nothing the others haven't seen before. You want all eyes on you all day long, and now you turn shy._»

Daria dried herself with a second towel and dressed herself while keeping an eye on Quinn, nudging her on every now and then. They left the school and found her mother's UAV in the parking lot. Walking over, Daria noted that Quinn's movements were a little erratic.

«_Slight hypoglycemia. Damnit, are you starving yourself again?_»  
Daria was not happy. She should have noticed this before it happened. They got into the car, and their mother immediately joined into the traffic.

"You're a little late, girls."

"Sorry mom, but training really wiped Quinn out and the shower took a little longer than expected."

Quinn just nodded at her mother from the front seat.

"Well, looking at Quinn that seems to be the truth. Did Daria assign an uncalled for hard training, Quinn?"

Quinn shook her head, because Daria hadn't. There was a single new exercise, and that was not the reason for her predicament. She knew she had slacked around during the summer.

"She's likely still dealing with the move and the climate change, so I don't see a problem."

«_She knows. But at least she covers me. Thank god for little favors._»

"I guess you're right, sweety."

* * *

Doing chores was unusual for Jane, but busying herself with a task that she loathed helped her to get her mind a little off things. While running or painting she mulled things over and over again but came to no conclusion. This was really frustrating.

She had still not been able to apologize to Daria, but being around her was getting easier. And she wasn't exactly sure what she felt about her. Mulling things over for the n-th time was a waste, and getting unpleasant chores done wasn't bad either. At least the butterflies were gone. Maybe they were bugging her mother. Hopefully to an extent that she would smack them.

* * *

The Morgendorffers continued the rest of the short journey home in silence. Daria picked up Quinn's gym back as well as her own after they arrived and immediately headed through the garage to the washing machine, starting her and her sister's gym cloths and towels. No use in waiting until the stuff started developing its ownaroma.

"We're home!" Helen announced.

"Hi honey, girls! I'll get dinner ready."

In the kitchen Quinn had made a pitcher with juice spritzer and just refilled her glass.

"Good thought, Quinn. May I?"

Quinn nodded while downing her second helping, Daria filled a glass on her own, and watched her dad set the dinner table while she downed it. He seemed to have made some kind of bruscetta au gratin. A nice meal, unless he had been to liberal with the Tabasco again.

Daria and Quinn refilled their glasses, put the now empty pitcher into the sink and moved to the dinner table. The dinner itself was a quiet affair, as Quinn was too tired to talk, Daria generally taciturn, which left Jake and Helen to talk about their day. Luckily, Jake had overlooked the Tabasco all together, and the meal had merely a slight hint of pepper.

With a smirk Daria watched Quinn work herself through her third helping of bruscetta from the tray. After all that exercise even Quinn's body screamed loud enough for nourishment to override the willpower of her brain.

* * *

Trent woke up well after dusk. He went into the kitchen to drink something. The band hadn't been over since the trip to Food Lord, there should be soda left. He found Jane's room deserted and was afraid to find her sulking in the kitchen again, but luckily the kitchen was empty. He got himself an Ultra Cola from the fridge and took a sip. He heard steps coming up from the basement and Jane came in carrying a basket.

"Ah Trent, won against Morpheus?"

"Nah, just a ceasefire."

He took another sip from his drink. Jane was coming out of her funk. Good.

"You're doing laundry, Janey? Could you..."

"No. No way, Trent. I want my stuff clean after a single cycle. Wash your own stuff."

"But Janey..."

"No. Do your own laundry or bum another shirt from Jesse."

"Jane, I..."

"No. Ask mom, or Monique if you feel suicidal. Grow up, I am not your maid."

Jane grabbed a soda from the fridge as well. If she did that chore for Trent only once she would be stuck with it forever.

"And do not think of starting a cycle right now. My bed linen goes next. You have the whole week after that."

Jane went to her room immediately after Trent had acknowledged her instructions. Doing his laundry wasn't a bad idea. The pile in his closet was a little smelly. And maybe watching the clothes spin in the drum would inspire him for some really cool lyrics.

* * *

Before going to bed, Daria knocked at her sister's door and entered after being invited to. Quinn was sprawled out on the bed in her bedclothes at the verge of falling asleep.

Daria tossed her the bottle of Ibuprofen she had retrieved beforehand.  
"Take one right now and a second in the morning. The soreness is going to be extremely nasty otherwise. Take another one to school for lunch."  
«_With this its just going to be normal nasty, but I'm not going to ruin your hope..._»

"Yeah, thanks Daria. Today was hard."  
Quinn popped a pill with some water from her bedstand.

"And you did not back out. Good work. Now sleep. Good night."

Daria watched Quinn as she lay down again and closed the door. Quinn was likely to be asleep before she reached her room. Daria went to sleep as well hoping for a better sleep than the nights before. She hadn't trained as hard as usual, but it was the first time for nearly two weeks. Tomorrow was Friday, and she was looking forward to her first training with the local chapter. Her bruise was well enough that she did not need Quinn's services tonight, and she had prepared Quinn properly for the payback. She gave her 10 minutes, tops.

* * *

With a fresh set of sheets Jane would get a really good night of sleep. She turned in early, as she planned to join Mystic Spiral on their Saturday night gig at the Zon. There would be people, there would be loud music and she was planning to lose herself a little. She'd better prepare.


	5. Chapter 5 Powerplay

**Size does matter - Chapter 5**

**by HawkingRadiation  
**(aka BlackHole at PPMB, SFMB)**  
**

Story (c)2008 by HawkingRatiation (BlackHole)  
Daria and associated characters are (c)2008 MTV Networks

* * *

**Powerplay**

Before the first class of the day, Ms. Morris went to the attendance/ infirmary/ storage room Coach Gibson used as his office most of the time. And stereotypical for a morning, a box from Do-me-a-Donut was found on the desk as he nursed on a coffee while reading 'USA Today'.

"Morning, Gibson."

"Morning. What's the matter, Morris?"

He and the female coach got along, but preferred to stay clear of one another. Her visiting his office was unusual.

"I'd like to give you a heads-up. Unofficial, and just between the two of us."

He put down his coffee and folded the 'newspaper'. That seemed serious.

"What happened?"

"Nothing - for now. You remember those new girls Ms. Li told everyone about? The tall ones?"

"Yeah, but girls aren't my problem."

"Maybe they will be. At least one of them. Daria."

"And how's that supposed to happen, Morris?"

"She was in my 'girls only' gym time yesterday and wasn't really happy with it. She's thinking about attending the open gym time in the morning..."

"Ah, come on, that's stupid. A girl among all the guys..."

"She said it wouldn't matter to her. And take my word for it: Strength wise she's likely on par with the guys."

Coach Gibson was not pleased. A girl during the open time could cause trouble. Worse, a girl during the open time could require supervision and keep him from his breakfast.

"You're talking nonsense, Morris."

"I've seen her in the gym. But I guess that's something you have to see with your own eyes."

"I enjoy a good surprise!"

Ms. Morris left coach Gibson in his personal retreat and headed over to the teacher's lounge.  
«_This may be an unpleasant surprise for you..._»

* * *

*****

The school day on Friday was pleasantly dull. Everyone's mind was already preparing for the weekend. Luckily there were no sport events right at the beginning of the school year, so no one bugged Daria to attend them.

Between two classes she found her locker blocked by Kevin and Brittany playing tonsil hockey. Daria cleared her throat noisily, twice, but to no avail.

"Excuse me."

The couple showed no reaction but sloppy sounds.

«_Brrr._»  
Daria nudged Kevin - carefully, so that they would not bite each other's tongues. Being disturbed during his fifth favourite occupation (after playing football, something else, watching football and drinking beer) did not please Kevin, and he turned quickly around.

"What's your problem, man?!"

Kevin's expression became less hostile once he recognized the intruder as Daria. However, Brittany was less amused once she noticed that another girl was talking to her man.

"You're blocking my locker. Just step aside and continue ignoring me."

"Hu?"

Brittany was a little quicker and nudged Kevin a yard down the lockers. Brittany was not sure what to make of Daria and hence was wary around her. That girl had two options to hit on her boyfriend.

"Come. And now Kevvie..."

The immediately resumed lip-locking, and Daria shook her head while switching books.

«_At least they don't shag in the open. Well. I've been here just four days. Maybe they do. *Brrr*. *Brrrrrr*._»

* * *

*****

After Thursday had provided Quinn with no occasion to meet this strange Jane Lane, she was set to talk to her today. The news about Daria's lunch encounter on Wednesday - there was supposedly a sequel yesterday - had spread through school. Unfortunately, the rumours were off the facts. 'She rejected a girl because she's straight' is not as interesting as 'squishy lesbian lovers quarrel'.

Quinn made several attempts to catch her between classes. Lunch was not an option, as freshmen and sophomores were in different lunch periods. Quinn got her chance between Math and Home Ec. when she spotted a girl fitting the description given by Stacy in the hallway. A rather unobstructed field of view even in a crowd was one of the perks of her size. With limited time at hand, she sped up to catch up with the girl.

"Hey, you're Jane Lane?"

Jane turned as she heard the voice behind her. She was not used to being talked to by other students, and she could not fit the voice to somebody she knew. The view was not as she expected. There wasn't a face where she anticipated one - but a chest. She had to look up and realized that the tall freshman girl that had transferred in on Monday was addressing her.

"Yessss?"

"Jane Lane? You're in self-esteem class?"

«_Damn, bad news travels fast..._»  
"That's me. Seventh time. I'm esteem-resistant."

Jane watched with fascination how the girl's expression changed once she had acknowledged her to be Jane Lane. It went from friendly and open to far more serious than the girl's outward appearance had indicated possible. She looked her over thoroughly with a neutral expression, and Jane repaid the favour.

The girl was thin, but not as lanky as Jane herself and, Jane had to admit grudgingly, had a real figure. Her rather fashionable clothes brought it out well without being obtrusive. Her face was cute without much makeup, but her red hair was really spectacular in its bounciness and coloration. Her aura screamed 'adore me' and she would likely be able to reduce any male to a slobbering idiot with a simple smile. Straight males, that was. Most likely her picture was in the Wikipedia under 'offensive cuteness'.

«_Another potential model. But I doubt she'd be able to stand still long enough for more than a picture. _»

"Nice to meet you, Jane Lane. Just don't bother my sister. Bye."

That said, the girl's expression became friendly again, she turned on the spot and headed off with rapid strides. Jane was puzzled.

«_What was that about? Who's she? What business do I have with her sister? Or not. __**Who is**__ her sister? Weird._»

This strange encounter was going to give her something to think about for at least the rest of the day.

* * *

*****

Home Ec. was the perfect class for Quinn to review her brief meeting with that girl. She dressed as alternative as Stacy had described, and her overall appearance seemed to scream 'artist' - as Stacy had hinted at. No makeup, just that incredible red lipstick, which worked for her and did not even clash with the hue of her equally red jacket. That told Quinn that this girl had a very keen sense for color - or incredible luck.

The amount of earrings she displayed was too much in Quinn's eyes, but Quinn was relieved that she had not noticed any bad vibes coming from the girl. She may be an outsider, but seemed not to keep bad company.

«_From her looks I'd bet 'flexible' wasn't false advertising._»

Quinn smirked, stopped chopping veggies, and stretched her back.

«_Damn, don't they have any kitchen counters in an appropriate height for me at this school? Having to bend over the whole time sucks - especially after yesterday. My back aches. As least I'm going to get some service from Daria today._»

* * *

*****

"Hey Daria."

Daria spotted the male black student walking up to her. She waited for him to catch up with her, after a week his name came easy to her.

"Hi Mack."

"And? What's your impression of LHS after your first week?"

"I will survive. Somehow."

Mack laughed. "That's what I tell myself every morning. But how're you doing?"

«_What do you want from me?_»  
Daria glanced sideways at her fellow student and shrugged.  
"Beside that 'self-esteem' class there hasn't been more trouble that I expected."

"Ah, yes, Jodie told me about that. I've no clue what you're doing there."

"O'Neill has no clue what he's doing there, either."

"Yeah, his touchy-feelyness is really bad."

"If I hadn't seen him, I wouldn't believe humans could survive a spine ablation."

"For sure. That's my stop. Later."

That said, Mack entered the classroom they were just passing by. Daria continued her way alone and mused what that conversation was about. Nothing, really, just friendly chatter.

«_Friendly chatter?!_»

* * *

*****

The close encounter of the 2.5th kind had Jane's mind busy during her lunch period. The tall girl, that hadn't even bother to introduce herself, had given her a cryptic message. Jane knew that she had been evaluated, and obviously passed the test. She wasn't even sure what exactly had been tested. She and the other girl were clearly from different social worlds. And the whole point of their conversation seemed to be about 'my sister'. Who ever that was. Jane had no idea. She must be someone from LHS, as Jane hadn't had any contact with people outside her class mates, her family and the band all week.

A little further into her lunch the pieces fell together. The tall girl had transferred in on Monday, so likely had 'my sister'. And from the group Jane had seen on Monday, there was only one person that could be that sister. The other tall girl. From self-esteem class. Who she had made a pass on.

Given this information, things made more sense. Thinking about it, their faces told about their familiarity. Their size was another thing they had in common. However, why were their figures so different?

«_I bet there's an interesting story to this._»

The younger sister was taller among the two. Was there a still younger sibling at 7 foot? What were their parents like? Why did they behave and dress so differently? Their personalities seemed to be much more different from one another than Jane was used to among her siblings. Maybe that was all connected to a single cause.

* * *

*****

The last class of Daria's week was the self-esteem class, which basically was identical to every lecture before except that Mr. O'Neill finished with a summary and an outlook for the next week. They would separate the boys and girls for two days for some 'gender specific discussion'. Daria had a rather good idea what that would be about, and that could turn out to be fun. Not all girls in this class looked like stuck-up prudes, as that Lane girl had proved. The fact that Mrs. Manson would be leading that session invalidated all of Daria's plans. That woman had it in for her, and upsetting her would be ... unwise, given her influence.

Another interesting observation about that Lane kid was the way she had acted all week. After their first, and memorable, encounter, she had really shied away and had gone lengths to stay out of Daria's way. That was, luckily, caused by embarrassment, and that seemed to fade away as Daria found her looking at her one time or another. She likely drew some pictures of Daria during self-esteem class, as Daria caught her looking over several times. But as the Lane girl painted everyone in said class, that was most likely not out of adoration, but out of availability. That was fine for Daria. She could have sworn that Jane, that was her name, had tried to talk to her several times, but Daria could not tell for sure.

* * *

*****

Ms. Morris entered Ms. Li's office with a queasy feeling. Being called in here was usually a bad omen.  
"You wanted to see me?"

"Ah, Ms. Morris. Yes, I have some questions about the two Morgendorffer sisters that joined LHS this Monday. You have both of them in P.E.?"

"Yes, but in different classes. Quinn's a freshman, and..."

"...Daria a sophomore, I remember. How are they doing, especially Quinn?"

"Quinn's doing ok. She's not really into exercising, but she does as she's told. Unless she sees an opportunity to skip out, but you know..."

"Does her size cause any problems in class? Even if I have a written OK from her mother for her to participate in P.E., I don't want to provoke any problems."

"Well. She's just tall and lanky. For some exercises that's a disadvantage, for others an advantage. Having her join a basketball game is almost unfair. It's hard to fit her into exercises requiring a partner of similar build and weight, because most girls of her weight are a foot smaller. Ms. Li, is this about her requiring physiotherapy?"

"Yes, that's my concern. But how do you know?"

"After school yesterday she was in the gym doing her exercises with her sister as coach. Believe me, P.E. class is not going to be a problem."

"Well, OK then. As you mentioned her, what about Daria?"

"Daria is doing good, but not excellent. Don't misunderstand me, she's an outstanding sportsman. Sportswoman. It's just that the girls P.E. exercises don't fit her."

"Does she participate or..."

"No, she doesn't slack off. You can see that she is unhappy with the exercises, but she does as good as she can."

«_Darn. Can't get her for that._»  
"Well, seeing she's an 'outstanding sportswoman', do you recommend her for any teams so that she could add to the glory of Lawndale High?"  
«_And we keep her occupied._»

"Unless we're having a women's wrestling team I don't know about, no. Forget anything like gymnastics or cheerleading. She's too bulky for volleyball and basketball, and even if we had a women's soccer team, I'd not expect her to do anygood."

"Nothing else?" Ms. Li was not pleased.

"Really not. But I'm sure she's going to be a regular at the gym and likely does some training outside of school, so I don't see a problem."

"I'd like to get her involved in school sports. My, aeh, our school's sports."

"Hmm. 'Involved' does not necessarily mean 'on the team'? I may have an idea."

"On a team would be better. On a team where she'd excel in public would be much better."

"I've no idea what team could suit her. But give me another week, and I may have an idea to involve her in school sports."

"Ms. Morris, I'm not pleased by your inability to recommend a suitable sport to push her on the team. However, 'involving' her in school sports would be better than nothing. I expect your answer a week from now. We must occupy her immediately after she tests out of the self-esteem class!"

«_So that's your real intention._»  
"You'll get my proposal next week, unless my initial assessment of her was wrong and my idea wouldn't work out."

"Well, then goodbye Ms. Morris."

«_What is it about Daria that irks her? I'll have a closer look at the girl next week._»

* * *

*****

Daria put down the equipment she had with her and locked the door of Quinn's room. There was no need for their parents to accidentally witness this event.

"Daria, I have sore muscles in places I didn't even knew I had muscles. You nearly wrecked me and those pain killers didn't work shit." Quinn said as she removed her shirt and bra. Until two weeks ago they had shared a room, and there were few secrets between them in that way.

"You took them and should be lucky that you didn't go without. The trousers need to go as well, they'll get stained otherwise."

Quinn removed her trousers as well and moved just clad in cotton panties and socks towards her bed.

"Daria, what's the towel doing on the bedside carpet?"

"Your bed won't work, Quinn. A massage requires a hard underground so I won't just push you into the padding. Lie down."

"Do I get a cushion?"

"No, that would give you a sore neck. But maybe you want to add that to your collection of sore..."

"Just shut up." Quinn did as she was told and lay on her tummy on the towel. Daria sat across Quinn's thighs who startled a little at this.

«_I'm just in my panties! That must look so..._»  
"Oh, Daria, is that necessary, that's a ..."

Daria carefully moved some stray strands of Quinn's hair to the side and smirked as she saw the blush spread across Quinn's shoulders. Redheads were really handicapped in that aspect.  
"..little dominating. But without a massage bench I need that position to exert the proper force. Should I stop?"

"No, go on." Daria was the only person Quinn was comfortable submitting to to that extent.

«_Darn. But it was worth a try._»  
"Caution, the oil could be a little cold, but off we go."

Daria poured a little bit of the massage oil she had borrowed from her parents' bedroom into her hands, warmed it a little and started to work on Quinn's back. Its citric smell was rather pleasant and comforting.

"Hmm, Daria that is not too cold. Nice... That's heavenly... Ouch! Daria stay clear of my spine!"

Quinn wiggled a little but noted that she would not be going anywhere. Accepting a massage required a lot more trust than she had expected.

«_Following the 'don'ts' makes it easy to make sure Quinn will never ask for this again._»

Daria moved in three more times on Quinn's spine right at the beginning, which seemed to be as uncomfortable as the book said. Then she started to run properly through the described motions. It was not that hard, and after a while she got the hang of it. That really required a lot of power in the arms.

The first three minutes Quinn was all 'oh'ing and 'ah'ing but then fell silent. After five minutes Quinn's breathing became tell-tale slow. After seven minutes she started to snore slightly. After eight minutes Daria removed her hands from the putty called Quinn and cleaned them on the towel that her sister rested on. She put another towel on Quinn's bed, lifted Quinn carefully enough not to wake her onto it and covered her with the towel from the floor. Finally she put the duvet over her sister.

«_Good night sis. Friday evening, a little after 6 and you're fast asleep. You can thank me later that I'm not telling mom and dad so that they can take pictures...hmm._»

Daria went silently to her room, retrieved an old instamatic camera and returned to her sister's room. After turning the bedside clock so the time would be visible, she shot a single picture. As she left the room for the second time, she switched the lights off. The picture came out really well, the dusk seen through the window underlined the unfashionable time frame.

«_Be grateful that we get along reasonably well. Otherwise prints of you lying half-naked on your bed would be going 20 bucks apiece come Monday. This just goes into my strategic reserve. Sadly I'm going to miss you freaking out once you notice that you slept in just your panties and socks. That's almost nude. How unfashionable, how kinky._»

In her room Daria switched her underwear for something sensible and packed the few things she was going to need for her training, including a towel and an additional sweater for the way back.

* * *

*****

Downstairs, her dad was already waiting, eager to attend this 'business men's meeting' the first time. 10:1 that this was a camouflaged poker round. Daria did not mind as long as she got a lift out of this. It would allow her dad to network in the new region, and he was smart enough to stop before he lost too much.

«_I bet those boys mark the losses as some 'club membership fee' and deduct them from the taxes._»

The ride to Oakwood took about 20 minutes. Jake asked Daria about her first week in Lawndale, and she told him a little. There was no need for many words among them, so periods of silence permeated the conversation.

Her dad had gotten settled in nicely. The new office was not posh, but nice and provided enough space. His initial contacts had paid off and his first client had signed a contract. Another job was pending, and even if it wasn't along Jake's favorite type of work he was excited as it seemed to promise more interesting business with a big client. 'Getting in at the ground floor' was his term. Finally, they arrived at the outskirts of Oakwood.

"We won't be able to give you rides over here all the time."

"I know, dad. Gonna try to carpool with someone."

"You'll get your license in the foreseeable future."

"I'd still need to borrow a car. And pay the gas."

Her father stopped the car at the roadside in front of an office building.

"There we are. Tellerman office building. My meeting is at a hotel lounge some blocks from here. Gonna pick you up here at 10. OK, kiddo?"

«_Kiddo my ass. Hotel lounge? Believable location for a business men's meeting. Brilliant cover for a poker round._»  
"Thanks, dad. Take care."

"Take care, too."

Daria left the car, and headed for the parking lot behind the building.

* * *

*****

Daria got a cordial welcome from the local chapter. Raynolds had obviously told the other members about what to expect when 'Tiny' came along. They were the usual mixed bunch: some security types that trained for their job, some normal guys that wanted to be able to save their butts and some vets that wanted to stay in shape. Everyone introduced themselves, but she did not even bother with the names. They would be using the nicknames anyway. Here Daria was Tiny and just the second girl among about fifteen people.

"'Tiny', hmm? Got that one by a blind man?" was the first question one of the guys asked her while stretching his arms.

"No, when I got that nickname I was less than DeeDee here." Daria said, pointing at the other girl in the group. 'DeeDee' was a small blonde woman of about 120 pounds in her late twenties.  
«_No doubt how she got named 'DD'._» Daria thought looking at her.

"That was, like, ten years ago?" asked another man of the group.

"No, just three. And listen, guys, so I don't have to repeat myself a dozen times: I'm 6'3" and about 190 pounds."

The guys gave her a measuring once-over; their practiced eyes evaluated her - as an opponent and sparring partner.  
"No doubt about that. You've been practicing three years?"

"Yes; that's part of the reason for that." Daria answered pointing at herself.

Raynolds spoke up. "Enough small talk. Lets get going, people. You know what to do. Tiny, you're with me. I need to see what you can do and what not."

That said, the crowd scattered along the empty parking lot and they began warming up and doing basic exercises in smaller groups or on their own. Daria warmed up with Raynolds and he started testing her level. After about ten minutes and some painful levers they stopped and Daria found about half of the group watching them. Whoever she made eye contact with gave an approving nod and resumed training. In this group, Daria was welcome. Here she did fit in. Here she was average. There was no more gawking afterwards.

* * *

*****

The guys did not pay Daria more attention than they did to anybody else. DeeDee was a different story all together. Being the lightest person around, DeeDee had a hard time during training. Her well honed technique and her fast reflexes were her only weapons against her sparring partners. She was incredible happy to see another female in the group.

"Tiny, the guys are great and give me as much as I can take, but you should see how embarrassed they get when they happen to touch me in 'inappropriate' places during the training. They know as well as I do that it does just happen, but ... you know. Training new moves is going to be so much more fun with you!"

DeeDee was a chatterbox and told Daria about herself during their breaks. She was here to learn effective self defense, and unlike her older husband she didn't like guns. He had brought a son and a daughter into the marriage. Daria did not really listen to her but focused on the others training to get to know the other members of the chapter.

Given the guys frame, DeeDee had a real problem. When Daria asked about that, DeeDee stated she didn't mind being in size-, weight, and strength-wise disadvantage all the time.  
"I don't expect any mugger to care about having an unfair advantage. This is the most realistic training I can get."

The training was hard. Raynolds was right, this bunch were the enthusiasts. Daria's skill was in the upper middle of the group, and she would surely be able to learn a thing or two. The guys initially handled her like they did DeeDee, but no one did so twice. Daria did not hesitate to take whatever advantage was presented to her and subdued her opponents. Once they realized that she might be a girl, but was on their level, even in strength, the guys sparred with her as an equal and the training was challenging.

Sparring in the parking lot was nasty. Once you fell, the tarmac was hard and rough. Her thick clothing did dampen the falls a little, but Daria was sure to have her share of bruises. Luckily, nothing tore open and she did not chafe her knees and hands. However she hit her head on the ground once causing her scalp to bleed a little. But if you were attacked, you had no choice in the location, so dealing with it in training was the right thing to do.

Amid the chatter DeeDee dropped that she was from Lawndale. While Deedee did not seem to be the type of person that Daria would befriend, she was willing to compromise for a chance to carpool.

"I'm from Lawndale as well. You're here by car?"

"Yes; you too? Maybe we can carpool. Riding together would be even more fun."

«_Must be my lucky day, I didn't even have to bring it up._»  
"No, I neither have a license nor a car. But riding together sounds good."

"Which days are you going to attend? I'm training Monday and Friday."

"I was planning Monday and Thursday. So we could ride together on Mondays."

"Hmmm. Mondays is a done deal, but let me think about it..."

"There's nothing to ... sorry, my turn again."

Daria joined another sparring session, but managed to organize the ride with DeeDee. She lived at Crewe Neck, one of Lawndale's upper class gated communities, and offered to pick Daria up. Daria declined as she did not want to impose and said she'd be at the community gate twenty to seven on the coming Monday. They exchanged phone numbers - Daria got DeeDee's cell's number - to stay in contact in case of last-minute changes.

* * *

*****

Quinn slowly drifted back into consciousness and was seriously confused. She felt great, relaxed, her muscles didn't ache as bad as before anymore, she was warm and comfortable. But she had no idea where she was or how she got there. Slowly she started to get the facts straight. She was in her bed, under her comforter with some additional towels, hence the comfortable warmth. Then she noted that she was not appropriately dressed.  
«_I'd never get into bed without my PJs!_»

The look at her bedside clock shocked her. It was nearly 10 o'clock. She wrapped one of the towels around her shoulders, got up and walked over to the bathroom. That late, she could just get ready for bed - properly, this time. The wheels in her mind started to turn. She got her massage from Daria, that made her relaxed and eased her sore muscles. And she likely had fallen asleep under her sister's hands.

She felt embarrassed as she came to the conclusion that Daria must have put her into bed and covered her without her noticing.  
«_Falling asleep like that, being put to bed like that. Just like a baby._»

Suddenly she saw the connection between the deal with Daria, the hard training she had been given, and the massage. Daria had managed to steal her Friday evening. Daria had babied her in order to hammer her place as 'baby sister' really home. And to top everything, Daria had left her in an embarrassing state. Quinn had been had really good, and she was seriously displeased with her sister. She went downstairs to have a little snack while watching some TV.

* * *

*****

Once the training finished, the group dissolved under numerous goodbyes. Daria had gotten a nice workout and was sweaty, so she pulled over the additional sweater and put a towel on her head and shoulders. DeeDee bode farewell and vanished in her car while Daria approached the sidewalk along the main street. Daria walked up and down to stay warm, drinking from her water bottle. Her father arrived five minutes later, a little after ten.

"Hi kiddo, get in and let's get home."

«_Kiddo my ass._»  
"Hi dad. I need a shower and my bed."

They rode a while in silence with only Jake's country station softly playing on the radio.

"How was the training?"

"Good. It's a nice group, and I'm going to make some progress with them. I think I managed to get a ride on Mondays with one of the other students. We'll see how that works out."

"That's great!"

«_Let's have a look what you've been up to..._»  
"How was your poker round, dad?"

"Great, I came out hundred bucks ahe..." Jake stopped himself as he realized what he just blurted out. He looked sheepishly at his daughter who smirked at him.

«_Gotcha!_»  
"So the 'business men's meeting' went well?"

"Yes. And I did network some. Really, things like that help business. Daria, please don't tell your mother..."

"Well, I suppose there is no real need to tell her..." Daria still smirked at her father and had now a wicked gleam in her eyes. She had him really in the hot seat.  
«_Better me than mom._»

Jake knew that smile. It was the smile Helen had when she had someone cornered for good. He did not have to ask, a share of his prize would ensure Daria's discretion.

"You're so much like your mother, Daria."

«_No. She'd take all the money AND yell at you._»  
"A gentleman does not compare a woman to her mother. But coming from you I take that as an honest compliment."

They rode in silence until they reached Lawndale's city limit.

"Are you going to attend the 'meeting' next week again, dad?"

"Maybe" was Jake's meek answer.

"I still have to work out a second ride. Maybe I'll ask you again."

Jake parked the Lexus in the Morgendorffer's driveway, counted three tenners from his wallet once he stopped the engine and gave them to Daria.

Daria was puzzled, she hadn't even asked for 'compensation', but her father had a point, this would get him into serious trouble. A short internal struggle later, Daria handed, to Jake's visible amazement, two bills back.

"Think of it as a fee for the ride. And I want you to win some more next week. Just remember not to let mom throw you off your guard."

The smirk between Daria and him told Jake that everything was all right.

* * *

*****

Daria did not dawdle and got under the shower after a short "Hello" to her mother in the den. When she came back down to have a small snack and a soda, Quinn, in pajamas, sat on the sofa watching TV at low level. Her mother was still busy with her papers. Noticing her presence, Quinn shot Daria a nasty glance.

"Napped well, sis?" Daria smirked.

Quinn did not dignify that with an answer, but it was obvious that she was peeved. Daria would never understand what her problem with sleeping naked was. Their mother did not even look up from her files.

"I'm gonna go up to my room to catch some zzz's as well. 'night"

A "Goodnight" from her mother accompanied Daria on her way to the staircase, and was joined by the "Goodnight" of her father, who was busy in the kitchen. Likely fixing himself a drink to celebrate his poker win - and not getting busted by Helen.


	6. Chapter 6 Fixing Things

**Size does matter - Chapter 6**

**by HawkingRadiation  
**(a.k.a BlackHole)

Story (c) 2008 by HawkingRadiation (a.k.a. BlackHole at PPMB, SFMB)  
Daria and associated characters are (c)2008 MTV Networks

* * *

Fixing things

Daria sat at the breakfast table working her way through the weekend edition of the newspaper when Quinn came down. It was nearly eleven o'clock and she was still clad in pajamas and had a serious case of bed-hair. Their mother was in the den, engrossed in her case files again and their father was out to do some shopping.

"Mornin' sunshine!"

"Cut it out! You stole my Friday evening and my complete sleep rhythm is off. All thanks to the 'nice' nap you let me have! After I woke up again I couldn't get back to sleep until 3am! And when I woke up yesterday evening, I was all nekkid! Why didn't you dress me! And my muscles still hurt from Thursday if I move the wrong way! My life is ruined!"

Daria put the newspaper down.  
"Well, you insisted on..."

"That's not the point! What if someone walked into my room and saw me? It's over, things can't get any worse!"

"Someone could have seen you... and taken a picture."

"Haha, Daria. And he could have infected me with ebola. You fail even as a misery chick."

Daria raised an eyebrow. Quinn was more upset than she had expected. Quinn picked up a bowl, some cereal and milk and started her own breakfast in silence. She pointedly look anywhere but at her sister.

Daria was astonished by Quinn's acerbic manners and could only guess why Quinn was so upset.  
«_OK, I had had her with the massage, but otherwise... she's mad at the world and I'm just a convenient target. No dates, no friends, new school and home, and tons of school work. Let's see if I can lighten her mood a little._»  
"What do you think of the cafeteria food at school?"

"Sucks."  
Quinn continued to sulk, but was now glancing at her sister every now and then. Daria put her glasses down and massaged the bridge of her nose.

"I agree. I'm thinking of storing some cans of dog food in my locker as an alternative for the really bad days. I'd be healthier as well."

"**EWWWW** Daria, I'm, like, eating here!"

«_Let's extend the olive branch._»  
"I'll give the cafeteria another chance next week. If things don't improve, it's brown-bagging for me from then on."

Quinn was torn. Daria had played a bad trick on her last evening, but keeping the cold shoulder treatment up right now could mean school lunch for a long time. Bad, icky, fattening school lunch. But she would not swallow the bait Daria had put out that easily.  
"One could have a healthy selection of fruits and some vegetable sticks."

«_Gotcha. You want to. You just don't want to admit it._»  
"I doubt mom or dad would prepare lunch for us every morning."

Quinn focussed her attention on her cereal. Daria decided to dangle the bait a little longer.  
"That'd mean getting up 10 minutes earlier. At least."  
«_I could get up only 20 minutes after you. What a bummer._»

Quinn managed to resist the temptation. "Well, maybe the food will improve."

Daria picked her glasses up again and returned to reading the paper after Quinn did not take the bait. She was sure that it was only a matter of time until she would; Quinn was too picky about her food to stay on that cafeteria lunch if she had the option to avoid it. That would come at a price, obviously. Daria would need some time to think of appropriate compensation.

After the breakfast and the paper Daria retreated into her room and started to work through her homework. Getting it out of the way would free the entire remaining weekend for leisure. Her diary was in need of an update, and there was still the issue with the phone lines. She heard Quinn enter their bathroom before her world reduced itself to math problems.

* * *

*****

After her breakfast Quinn stepped into the bathroom to take a shower. Her image in mirror looked simply bad.

«_I look horrible. Thank god only Daria saw me - and she doesn't give much for appearance._»

The shower was refreshing, but Quinn noted again that the room needed some remodelling. The showerhead was far too low for people of her size, as was the shower curtain once she lifted the nozzle to wash her hair. It would take a while to adjust the house.

Her prospects for the weekend were rather dull. Catching up with the missing two weeks of schoolwork did not provide that big a challenge. Combined with the effort she had put in during the week, she should have been able to arrive on par by late evening today. But thanks to the loss of large parts of Thursday and Friday evening, she'd be more or less busy until Sunday evening. Then there was the middle school reading list that differed a little from the one in Texas. That meant that she had some books to read in order to fill the gaps that could open during her English class. She wasn't Daria who had likely read half of all existing books by now. That would be time consuming and totally boring. Plus she had to start to take notes of the books, Daria had had a point there. That was time consuming right now, but would prove efficient in the long run.

* * *

*****

"Daria."

Daria hadn't noticed her mother entering her room. Her entering Daria's own turf was rare, so something was up. The sounds of running water told Daria that her sister was taking a shower.

"Mom?"

Daria refocussed her attention on her mother. Helen wouldn't interrupt her work if this wasn't important. Her mother's choice of an opportunity without Quinn and Jake around indicated that she expected resistance. She didn't want any witnesses.

Helen did not beat around the bush. She wanted to get this issue over with.  
"Daria, I think you should take up seeing a professional psychologist again."  
«_And if I start this the right way, the bill will be covered entirely by the insurance._»

«_Damn. But that was a sure bet since that bloody shrink put me into the freak show on Monday. And her mind is set on it. Stay reasonable._»  
"Mom, I've been seeing ..."

"...a psychologist for some time. You have and it did help you."

"Then...?"

"Continuing will help you further."

"Don't you think that'd be a waste of time and money?"

«_Not my time, not my money._» "If I did I wouldn't send you. You're going to profit from it."

"I don't think I need them anymore."

"Daria, please face the facts. You being sent to some self-esteem class as the first thing at your new school shows that you still need some guidance."

"That damn shrink's a quack and wanted to pay me back!"

Helen backed a step away at Daria's angry outburst, but not on the matter. One more reason to keep Daria under surveillance.

"You're smart enough to avoid such situations to begin with and rejected **my** help after it happened. I'm not going to send you to some 'quack', Daria."

«_Calm down, that's not going to do you any good._»  
"Mom, I..."

"Daria, you will be going, end of discussion. And rest assured that I'll have a close eye on Quinn."

«'_Anything you say can and will be used against you.' Anything you don't say as well._»  
"Yes mom."

"I'll tell you when and where."

«_Damage control._»  
"If possible not Monday and Thursday evening, mom. My training's then."

«_Hmm, that's keeping her occupied..._» "Allright, I think I'll manage to avoid these days, Daria. But you know that I can't make any promises about that. OK?"

«_It's not like 'no' is an option here._» "OK, mom."

That said, Helen left Daria's room again, likely to return to her files. Daria was not completely surprised by her mother's announcement. She had that inkling ever since she could not get out of that friggin' psych exam on Monday. One more day a week that went down the drain. She **had** to get out of that brain dead after-school class — ASAFP.

* * *

*****

Quinn looked back at her week while the shower's warm water relaxed her. She had not made any friends by now, but was hopeful that this was going to change soon. Stacy seemed to be a nice girl, once she was away from Sandi. They seemed to share some interests as well and Stacy luckily did not immediately see her as a threat. When it came to making female friends her looks were really a handicap. She had already overheard some really nasty remarks from other girls concerning herself. Things at middle school had been much easier with Daria paving her way.

Sandi was the most high-strung bitch Quinn had ever encountered so far. That girl had some real issues. If it wasn't for their common interest in fashion and the tolerable other girls around her, Quinn would not associate with her. Sandi was building a serious powerbase in the circle of the popular, but while this was a good reason for many girls to bow to Sandi's regiment that was not a necessity for Quinn. Given her looks, the question was not if she was popular or not, but just how popular she was going to be. If Sandi would accept that fact and adopt a live-and-let-live policy, they should be able to get along. And Quinn doubted that she would ever develop any interest in Sandi beyond 'get along with'.

Then there was the third girl of the fashion club, Tiffany. She was beautiful like a delicate china doll and as talkative. Quinn wondered what her problem was, and came up with several possible reasons. All of them were highly uncomfortable, so Quinn decided to deal with that issue later. Much later.

To Quinn's chagrin the male population of LHS had not reacted to her arrival as she would have preferred. At middle school, the male students adored her, and she had revelled in it. During the last week she had seen guys drool far too often. But no one had made the effort to actually talk to her. It would take a while to settle in. High school was different from middle school. Some of the questions Ms. Manson had asked on Monday started to make a lot more sense now.

Her mind wandered back to her school work. She could bother less, but her mother made a point at tying her spending, time and money, to her scholastic performance. Anything worse than a C would be really frowned upon - including money-wise. Quinn was not keen to find out the result of a less than C average at midterms or even the finals would look like. Having a major brain like Daria around did not help either. With her parents, that was.

Secondary literature was likely the way to go. She wasn't required to know the books, but about the books. And preprocessed information would be easier to absorb and thus more efficient. She'd had to ask Daria about that. That was a perk of having a major brain around the house.

* * *

*****

"Quinn?"

Helen looked into her younger daughter's room and found her unmoving on her bed. Quinn looked up, and the opened book in her hand made clear that she had been taking a break from reading.

"Yes, mom?"

"I need a break, and still have some things I need to buy. I'm heading over to the mall, you want to join?"

That was an offer Quinn could not resist. She had hardly been out all week, and the reading was getting to her. A trip to the mall was a welcome interruption of her day. She immediately gave in to the temptation.  
"Give me five minutes!"

"I'll wait downstairs."  
Helen left Quinn's room, closed the door, and looked down the hallway towards Daria's door. Even if she already knew the outcome, she could not skip asking Daria to join in as well. Helen sighed. Appeasement did not go well with Daria.

* * *

*****

Five minutes later, a properly dressed Quinn and her mother mounted the SAV and set off. A block down the street it registered with Quinn that it was just the two of them.

"Didn't Daria want to come?"

"Daria was 'busy'. She isn't in the mood to spend time with me right now."

"Hu? What happened?"

"I'm having her see a psychologist again."

"Oh." Quinn did not like that. If her sister was sent there again, she was not too far off herself.

"I wasn't sure until we got that message on Monday."

"I think she's doing better now."

"If she is it doesn't show. Otherwise she would not have been diagnosed with low self-esteem."

"From **that** interview, mom?"

"The school psychologist meets the requirements of the county school board and is approved by the PTA. I seriously doubt this Ms. Li would tolerate any incompetence at her school."

«_I don't think competence is her top requirement for employment - not by a loooong way._»  
"I don't think Daria's happy about that."

"Of course not. Only a total nutcase would be happy to have psychological problems. And don't think **I** am happy about that. It's my, our money and my time."

"Maybe she'll get better quick."

"She better."

The conversation did dampen Quinn's mood a little, but with this being her first trip to the local mall Quinn was still excited. She was aware that this would give her some serious exposure and, with this being around lunchtime on a Saturday, she would likely be spotted by some students of LHS.

* * *

*****

Daria went into the kitchen to make herself a sandwich for lunch. It had taken a while to take her mind off her renewed visits to a shrink, but once she was focussed again she made quick progress with her homework. After lunch, there was just some report to write for that Ms. Barch in science, and she would be done.

With her sister and her mother gone, she realized that she was alone in the new house for the first time. Daria took the opportunity to listen to the house. With pleasant autumn weather outside without any wind, there were hardly any sounds from the roof truss or the walls. There weren't many noises on the outside as well. A dog barked some houses down the street but no cars were heard passing.

* * *

*****

Quinn and Helen split up immediately after they entered the mall and arranged to meet up an hour later in the food court to have some lunch. Quinn had had breakfast late and was fine with that. The food court should have something to her liking.

Helen set off to work through the list she had prepared, but Quinn was set to just browse. She got her share of stares as she walked through the hallways. Being tall had its perks in such an environment. With her eyes well above the heads of the crowd she had no problem in spotting the interesting stores even on the opposite side of the building.

The mall was small, but catered to all needs. All major chain stores had a branch, yet Quinn was not optimistic to get a great shopping experience. For someone of her size, even the big-and-tall stores had only a spartan selection.  
«_Spartan in every sense._»

On her expedition she passed several teens that seemed familiar to her, but she steered clear of the more popular hangouts like the record store. Right now, she wasn't here for socializing but just to get to know the place. While looking at the display she noted a guy, a senior or college freshman, looking at her. She wouldn't have spent any addition attention on him if she hadn't seen the displeased girl approaching him from behind. Quinn threw her hair and shifted her hip to look at another item in order to set things in motion. The guy's smile widened, the girl became infuriated once she arrived at the guy, and Quinn decided to make her exit before things turned really ugly.  
«_Thank heavens, it still works._»

* * *

*****

Quinn arrived a little early at the food court and spent the time waiting for her mother looking at the food options and watching the other patrons. There were a couple of students from her grade sitting in one booth. Geeks - not the crowd she would like to associate with.

Quinn spotted her mother, laden with several bags of loot, from far away and moved towards the entrance of the food court she would use. They secured a small table and Helen sat down immediately.

"Here's money Quinn. Get me some chicken burrito combo with a cola and yourself whatever you like. I need some rest and will stay here with the bags."

"Yes mom."

Helen's choice of a TexMex place was ok for Quinn. She could get herself some ensalada thingy with some something on the side. No cheese or cream, though. The order line advanced fast, and Quinn quickly returned to the table with a laden tray and handed back the change. Helen dug in immediately, she was obviously hungry.

"Mom, hasty eating will make you fat."

"Quinn, I haven't eaten since breakfast, and that was before eight. I'm starving here."

Quinn took a sip from her diet soda. "Well, it's still not healthy."

"Lets make a deal: You don't comment on my eating habits and I won't comment on yours."

Quinn just nodded. There hadn't been a single visit to the doctor that didn't included the phrase 'You should gain a little weight'. Luckily they never said that her low weight was a problem, because otherwise her mother would have immediately force-fed her. Or more likely outsourced that task to Daria. Gaining weight was not something Quinn was looking forward to.

Mother and daughter continued their meal in silence and watched the crowd around them.

* * *

*****

Several eye pairs from the crowd watched back. Some LHS students had lunch at the food court as well and could not fail to notice Quinn's presence.

"You see those two over there?"

Following his friend's gaze, he immediately spotted the red hair high above the level of the other seated peoples' heads.  
"Which...ah, the tall hottie from school."

"Yes. Who's she with? I can't really see the other person that well."

"Dunno. She looks rather normal."

"Friend from school?"

"What else? Her mother or what? They're nothing alike. Look at the height difference, and the hair color doesn't match a little."

"So you know her? Her friend, I mean."

"No clue who that could be. But what's your interest with her, she's rather plain."

"That's exactly why I get the girls first, Corey. You're just not clever enough. She's **her** friend. Get to know her, and get introduced to the hottie."

"That's pretty..."

"...smart. This is why I'll watch closely who that girl is. And starting coming Monday, I'll pay a little extra attention to her."

The boys ate in silence and kept a constant surveillance on their targets. Once they had finished things got interesting. As the girls got up, the difference between the two of them became much more palpable. The difference in height - and age.

Corey started to snicker.  
"Yo, Mr Smart, you gotta thing for older women? I'm really looking forward to you hitting on her mother or her aunt. That'll really guarantee you a date."

"Ah, man, what's that supposed..."

"Or you're more for a MILF anyway, hu?"  
Corey could hardly contain his amusement at his friend's error and was sure that this would be material to tease him with until graduation.

* * *

*****

On their way back to the car, Helen noticed how Quinn consciously forced herself to match her pace to Helen's. Quinn knew that Helen did not really like to be reminded that she was the smallest member of the family, and that her 'little girls' were anything but that. They just grew up so tremendously, abnormally fast and tall. Quinn had turned into an amazing woman in an eyeblink, and what had happened to Daria was beyond strange. She had a hard time seeing that the quiet tiny girl that she once had been was still in there - somehow, somewhere.

On the ride back home Helen mainly thought about her oldest daughter, how she had changed, and how far they had drifted apart. She couldn'tdo much more for her than send her to see an expert to get herself sorted out. Daria was an adult in her eyes, and would have to fend for herself since she refused any help - as she had always done, unless she couldn't avoid it.

They arrived back at home, and split up again; Helen stored her purchases in the appropriate places and Quinn returned to her room to continue reading – and now taking notes on – her latest text. Beside some clean dishes in the dish rack no hint of Daria's presence could be found.

* * *

*****

As Daria had already suspected, her father didn't return while she finished her homework. She equipped her flashlight and a screwdriver from the toolbox in the garage and started the investigation. The first stops were the various manholes to the cable ducts. Investigating the attic, which was little more than a crawlspace, had not the slightest appeal to her.

Daria wondered if any Morgendorffer had visited the attic at all since they had moved in. All unopened boxes were still stored in the garage - and Daria was sure that they would never leave it.  
«_Maybe there's a door up there leading to parallel universes with an other me. Hmm, maybe there's a story in that thought._»

While inspecting the garage, Daria heard her mother's car arrive and two people, likely her mother and her sister, exit and enter the house. When she returned to the house herself, her mother was again in the den, but this time talking to someone over her cell phone. Likely to her boss or a coworker about the case she was working on.

Quinn was nowhere to be seen, so she was likely in her room doing her own homework. Her father was still out, even if he was not back once she was finished, she would start looking at the phone lines on her own. The phone had been unusually quiet since they arrived at Lawndale, but Daria was very sure that this was going to change rather soon - she decided to enjoy the silence as long as possible.

* * *

*****

The inspection of the cable ducts had led to no new insight into the phone line problem, but into the size of the local dust bunny population, which was impressive.  
«_Quinn loves bunnies, I should save her some. But if the heating's air ducts look the same, we really need have them cleaned out for better air quality. I don't want to know what stuff could be growing there gracing us with the means of its reproduction._»

The thorough investigation of the new Morgendorffer home gave Daria an edge over her parents and Quinn when it came to hiding spots, and there were a few rather obscure cavities that could hide some private things from prying eyes. In one place Daria found a bottle of meds that, given the yellowed label, had been stored there for at least a decade or two. Given the amount of cobwebs around it, Daria decided not to pick it up. No use in getting dirty if she didn't need to.

Pointing her flashlight at it and squinting, she spotted the name 'Nembutal', but that gave her no idea what that was. After adjusting her glasses and squinting some more, Daria identified the word 'barbital' and connected the dots. That was likely some high powered sedative the family of the mad woman that had inhabited Daria's room had kept for the more severe attacks. Mostly onlyavailable on prescription at that time, and most likely entirely illegal today. Daria contemplated what to do and decided to let sleeping dogs lie. It being there did not harm anybody and maybe there would be some use for it in the future.

Looking through the cable ducts taught her what kind of cables were used for the phone, but there was no hint at any interruption or defective junction. Daria would have to look through the attic next, but wasn't in the mood for it and postponed it to Sunday.

* * *

*****

The afternoon passed quickly. Quinn was busy with her reading list, and was hardly seen outside her room. Helen was busy in the den, and didn't bother any of the girls, so Daria decided to bring both of her diaries up to date. After she had elevated her room's security level from 'high' to 'paranoid', she started by writing in her electronic journal. Reviewing the truth made it easier to come up with credible lies.

The scene with Scarlett that really got to her - like the other times before. How she got even with Quinn, including the picture in her strategic reserve. How she missed an operational internet connection; she knew the school's library and computing lab computers were filtered, and most likely rigged to record every interaction you made. But she had not found the cause for the defective lines in the garage or the air ducts, her hope was that the attic would hold the solution.

Her other classmates didn't give her so much trouble. The Lane girl acted weird around her and that red haired kid as well, but Daria wasn't sure if that was just around her or in general. He was kind of the type for the latter. The survey she had gotten on Thursday was notable as well. Daria hoped Quinn would start to realize the this wasn't middle school anymore and be a little bit more careful than she used to be.

How the smart black guy managed to be on the football team with that incredibly stupid 'QB' was beyond Daria. She would have called the gene pool boy a long time ago. Their girlfriends, Ms. Perfect and Ms. Unsinkable, were both a handful. But Ms. Unsinkable did at least not try to occupy Daria's time.

Then there was the incredibly snotty Convertible Girl; that girl had a lesson in humbleness coming for her and Daria felt that fate was already working overtime to arrange this in one way or another. Daria really pitied the girl, since this was a lesson she'd be going to learn the hard way. 'Hard' as: Carpet bombing her own little world.

The teachers were an odd bunch. The history teacher seemed quite amicable later that week, so likely he had been just testing her. The female science teacher seemed in desperate need of of some hormonal release or a straightjacket. Mr O'Neill lacked exactly the aggression she had too much of.  
«_They should marry. But then, there's no men's shelter..._»

Daria had met the local chapter, and surprisingly managed to get a ride immediately. This DeeDee girl seemed nice; too nice. Daria was a little wary of her, for some reason she could not comprehend her.  
«_Nothing is as simple as it seems._»

Catching her father with his poker round was really amusing, yet Daria was happy that he had already started to make connections to the local business world.

Being sent to see a psychologist did not exactly surprise Daria after Monday's episode with the school shrink. Yet, her mother's constant immersion in her work had her worried a little. That had not been the case in Highland. Well, not to that extent.

After adding her expectations for attending the free for all gym starting next week, she secured and obscured her electronic journal again, and retrieved its physical counterpart after thoroughly checking for hints of anyone accessing it beside her.

The written diary was much easier afterwards. She spun a tale of extorting protection money from that weirdo red head she shared several classes with. She was not sure whether having him operate the drug distribution at LHS was a bit too much, but added a nice twist to things. That had potential in the long run.

After she brought the security down to a normal - for her, that is - level, she made a quick decision, returned to her computer, and fired up the word processor. Melody Powers had some infiltration to do.

* * *

*****

Jane was very content. During the second set of Mystik Spiral and well into her third beer (complimentarily provided by Jesse, Nick and Max - in that order; she would collect the 'Only one beer, Janey!' later from Trent) she sat across the lap of some boy that had chatted her up after the Spiral left for their set. He had sat down across from her in the booth the boys had just left, and they had made fun of the other patrons. Once Jane cracked some jokes about the band's first song, he did not hold back commenting on their performance.

He was sufficiently cute, about her own age and rather clean and nicely dressed by the Zon's standards. He asked her to join him for a burger, and she had excused herself to the restroom before leaving. Beside performing levitation she came to the conclusion that he would do for the evening. The slight buzz from the beer supported her decision. On her return he sat rather nervously in the booth. He obviously expected to be stood up. He was in for a pleasant surprise.

Jane approached the booth with a smile and entered the bench he was sitting on. Once she sat beside him, she said "I know something better than a burger", sat on his lap, and muffled his protests with a deep kiss. That settled things rather fast. After Jane had shown him what to do (and what not to do) they commenced with a very pleasant making-out-session. Elsewhere that would have been risque, but in the darkness of a booth at the Zon their activities were on the chaste side. Jane enjoyed that very much, and knew for sure that her partner did as well.

They had not spoken a single word since the first kiss, and Jane would not have been the one to stop the activities, but at some point the guy made very clear that something else required her attention.

* * *

*****

After the initial shock of some strange chick latching onto his lips wore off, Tom decided to play along. No higher brain functions were involved in that process. She guided his hands and showed him what to do. He was familiar with going to second base, but not after 5 minutes of knowing each other. He knew that this was something just for the now, and he felt used. But the good kind of used, he was not complaining. Hormones at heady levels and her black hair blocked out sights and sound from the club.

A sudden surge of adrenalin brought him back to reality. It took him a second to understand why he was suddenly scared shitless, but once his brain processed the image of the four guys standing in front of the booth and looking at himand the girl, he immediately tried to get her off him.

«_OMFG! The guys from before, the band. I didn't notice that they left the stage. If one of them is her boyfriend and she's using me to stage a breakup, I'm gonna leave the club feet first!_»

* * *

*****

Jane was not happy when the guy started to push her away, but she relented. She turned to take a look around the club and was a little surprised to see the Spiral blocking the booth. They luckily did not look angry, but not happy either. Jane now understood why the boy's interest flagged that quickly.

"Hi, Trent. Didn't see you."

"We're packed up and leaving. Want a lift or got another ride?"

"I'm coming, Trent."

Still glowing, Jane got of the guy's lap and left the booth. He was obviously too scared to think straight. Jane turned around before she crossed the rank of Mystik Spiral and bode her toy farewell.

"See you!"

* * *

*****

Still too scared to speak, Tom watched the girl walk towards the club's exit. The guys followed her, the one with the goatee lingering behind and shooting him an evil glare. Once the group had left the club, he started breathing again. He left the booth and visited the restroom. The metal mirror revealed numerous smears of the bright red lipstick she had worn. He cleared his face with his handkerchief, rearranged his hair and his clothes. The result was far from perfect but had hidden the most obvious signs of their debauchery. Back at the bar he ordered himself a soda, drank it rather fast as he tried to sort out his thoughts. They didn't even know each other's name. His conclusion was to file that encounter under 'once in a lifetime' and head home. The day would hardly get any better.

He cruised through the empty streets of Lawndale in his rust bucket of a car and hoped that nobody at home would witness his return and the state he was in. 'Some chick about jumped me and we had a corybantic make-out-session until some guys showed up to take her home.' Yeah, right. None would believe his story, and assume that he had a run-in with just the other guys. His curfew would be so tight that he would have to hurry to get back from school in time – even if it was just to protect him.

* * *

*****

Jane and Trent rode home in his car. After several minutes of silence, Trent looked over at his sister who still had a very happy smile on her face. She had no idea how happy Trent had been when she joined him to go home on her own accord. Trent tried not to interfere with her private life - or love life - but, damn, she was his little sister.

"Janey, what was that about?"

Jane came out of her daydream and noted the peeved tone in Trent's voice.

"Geez, Trent, let me have some fun of my own."

"Janey, you acted like a bitch in heat."

Jane got seriously defensive.

"Hey, I've got needs too! A girl takes the initiative once and all you guys say 'look at that slut!'. This is not the 50s, Trent! God, I thought you were more open minded!"

"You weren't in control."

"For sure I was in control, Trent! He would've done my every bidding. You were there!"

"Were you in control of yourself?"

From the ensuing silence Trent infered that he was spot-on.

"Again: Janey, what was that about?"

Jane didn't answer right away. Trent saw that she needed some time to think.

"It was fun. I really really liked it."  
Jane's meek voice told Trent that his comment had hit home. He did not press on, and they arrived at the Lane's home before another word was spoken. In the kitchen, grabbing another soda, he approached his sister again to placate her a little.

"Jane, it was fun, and it was safe. So everything is fine."

He had to admit that his big-brother-instinct told him to lock Jane in her room until further notice and go back and clobber the guy painstakingly. But his reason told him that this would be completely pointless. And would require additional effort. Jane's state bothered Trent more than her escapades. She was not all right, and obviously prone to erratic behaviour. And unless she got her peace of mind back, that was unlikely to change.

"Want your beer, Janey?"

"Thanks Trent, but I think I'll hit the hay right away. 'Sleep on it', sounds familiar?"

Trent chuckled.  
"Smart advice."

"If your amp emits any noise audible in my room before 9am tomorrow my next art project will be entitled '12AX7 meets hammer'. Or 'Bulldog with screwdriver'. Night Trent."

Trent watched his sister leave the kitchen. He grabbed himself a six pack beer and headed down to the basement to 'practice'.  
"At least her humor's back."


	7. Chapter 7 Rocks and other hard places

**Size does matter - Chapter 7**

**by HawkingRadiation**

Story (c)2008 by HawkingRadiation (a.k.a BlackHole PPMB, SFMB)  
Daria and associated characters are (c)2008 MTV Networks

* * *

**Rocks and other hard places**

On late Sunday morning Jake went out to finish setting up the things he had purchased the day before in his new office rooms. Daria took it easy as well and was reading the Sunday paper at the kitchen table while Quinn was lazing in front of the TV watching some cartoons. Finally, Quinn became awake enough to realize that she was not really in the target age bracket. She shut down the TV, had a shower upstairs and retreated to her room.

A little before noon, Daria decided to conclude her inspection of the cabling without her father and make a visit to the attic. Locating and extending the fold-down ladder at the end of the hallway in front of her room, she began to venture to unknown territories.

* * *

A switch on top of the fold down ladder illuminated the crawlspace through a dim light bulb hanging by its cable from the top rafter. Little light came through the small windows that hadn't been cleaned in centuries. Daria smelled the dust on the bulb burn, as it was exposed to heat for the first time after a very long while. Without her flashlight, Daria would just have been able to make out the rafters and avoid hitting her head, but searching for defective cabling would have been out of question.  
«_Darn. Let's hope my eyesight is good enough for unlimited night driving._»

The crawlspace was cramped and dusty, but did not contain any dead rats or similar unpleasant surprises. Any movements had to be done in a crouched position. There was indeed a wall with a four by three foot door splitting the level into about halves. Daria immediately went over to open the door and inspect the other side.

The half over the master bedroom was as unexciting as the other, so Daria closed the door and had a look at the cables running loose on the attic floor. The problem with the phone line to her room was located fast. The walls to her room had been strengthened with additional beams, likely when the padding had been put in place. The phone line had simply been cut off, once its old path had became obstructed, since the new occupant of the room had not been even allowed to have a phone.

Fixing the phone line would require little more than some ten feet of new cable and reconnecting the socket to the existing line to the splitter. The cable TV line was uninterrupted, though. After all, the shut-in's TV was still mounted in the corner of Daria's room. So that problem was caused by something else in a different place.

"Daria?" came her sister's voice from the open trap door, interrupting Daria's musings. She walked over, looked down and found her sister standing at the bottom of the ladder.

"There're no rats up there, are there? There were noises..." Quinn asked meekly once she spotted her sister.

"No, just me. Looking to fix my phone and cable."

"You're sure?"

"Haven't seen any rats or rat droppings. So I'm pretty sure."  
Daria shrugged and Quinn sighed. "What a relief."

Daria descended the ladder and watched her sister return to her room.  
«_Sometimes you're so childish._»

In her room she removed the phone socket and cut off the cable. Cutting off another two inches would give her a template to shop after.

* * *

Quinn found her father, who had returned in the meantime, at the kitchen counter when she went down to pick up some ice water from the fridge. Several magazines were spread out open and she spotted even the well-worn Ikea catalog that had been used to shop for small stuff.

Her father was engrossed in whatever he was doing and hardly acknowledged Quinn's presence, so she addressed him once she had filled her glass of water.  
"Dad, what are you looking at?"

"Hello princess. Ah, just some pictures."

Walking over, Quinn noticed that all the magazines were on interior design, or furniture catalogs.  
"But Dad, we already bought all the furniture the new house needed. And we all agreed on not shopping at Ikea. Even Daria did."

"That's right, princess, but this is for work. One of Daddy's first contracts is setting up an office. I'm just browsing for ideas."

Jake flipped a page in one magazine, stared at the office setting depicted, looked around, picked up another magazine, and frantically searched for something in it. After he found the page he had in mind, he compared the two.  
"I knew it. The same furniture, but a third cheaper."

Quinn looked around her father at the two pictures.  
"And I can tell you why. They got a cheap interior designer and a crappy photographer as well. The lamp's colors soooo clash with the picture on the wall. And the lighting looks crappy - just like in a real office."

"Still the furniture is a third cheaper, and that's what I'm buying."  
Pointing at the figures, Jake turned towards his younger daughter, who spoke up again.

«_Maybe I can give you some hints..._»  
"If they just didn't use neon lights all over. Yuk. Or at least use some drapes to add some color to the indirect light, the whole setting wouldn't come out so...so sterile."

"I guess you're right, but it's money talking, princess. Wait some years, and you'll understand that as well."

«_I understand money quite well; I'm not five anymore, dad._»  
"But it'd take only a little money to fix those things, and it'd really add to the office's appeal. Something dark violet maybe."

Jake put his hand on Quinn's shoulder.  
"Look, Quinn, there are a lot more influences that one needs to factor in here, and it takes a lot of experience to know what the customers will find appealing in the end. Finding those out is what Daddy has learned, and it's hard work. Some gut feeling is a good start, but you always need to find reasons why it's a good idea to begin with. But don't bother with that right now, learning that is something you'll do when you grow up."

«_Did you listen a tiny bit to what I said? 'Grow up'. How much more?! The doctors say I'm about seventeen, body wise!_»  
"Yes daddy."

Her ice water now nearly at room temperature, Quinn returned to her room. She didn't hear him mutter to himself "Enjoy your youth; it's much much too short."

* * *

Once Daria noticed that her father was back, she told him about her findings concerning the phone lines. He was more than happy that one of the problems was more or less solved.

Later that afternoon, Daria and her father set out again to get some phone cable. Daria was happy to get some more driving done, and convinced her father to stop at the local army surplus store to get herself a proper winter jacket. Being able to shop men's size once had its advantage. The Norwegian dawn jacket in dark-green-gray-white speckled snow camo set herMontana cabin fund back just a little, but its warmth would more than make make up for the money during the next years. That was real bang per buck.

Her father told her about the improvements to the office he had made in the morning. Some furniture beyond a desk and some chairs, some prints, and some accessories had changed its look from an interrogation room to a place where one could enjoy working. In a month, the creative chaos her father preferred would taken over, and the place would look really lived in.

* * *

Quinn was taking a break from reading and was staring at the canopy of her bed while listening to some music from her radio when the phone rang. Not expecting any calls, Quinn ignored it. But, as it rang the fourth time, Quinn knew that her mother was either too busy to pick it up or already on a call on her cell phone, so she finally picked it up herself.

"Morgendorffer residence."

"_Ah, ahm, could I speak to Quinn, please?_" a female voice asked. It had a familiar ring to it, yet Quinn could not place it, hence she was careful.

"Maybe. Who's this?" Quinn said, a little more brusque than intended.

"_I'm Stacy, umm, Stacy Rowe, one of Quinn's classmates and I know my call isn't expected but I'd like to talk to her and I really really mean no harm. Oh, I'm sorry, I must have called at an inconvenient time you must be eating and a family meal on Sunday is an incredibly important time not to be interrupted so I'm really sorry to have done so and I will call back again but maybe you could tell Quinn that I called so she can call me back, but then she likely does not have my phone number and I don't want you to get a pen and paper right now so maybe you..._" Stacy spouted like a tommy gun until Quinn's  
"Stacy! Breathe!"  
interrupted her for good. Quinn wished she had recognized her voice a little earlier.

"_*Eeeep*!_"

"It's me, Quinn, Stacy."

Quinn heard her take several deep breaths, and their slowing rhythm told her that Stacy was slowly calming down. Quinn was pleasantly surprised by the call, but something felt wrong.

"_Hi Quinn._"

"Nice talking to you Stacy. How did you get our number? I haven't given it to you."

"_I looked it up. There aren't many 'Morgendorffers' in Lawndale. I hope you don't mind._" was the meek answer.

"Stacy, we moved here a week ago. We're not in the directory."

"_On the computer. Online. There you are already, as is your dad's business._"

"Oh, yes, there's that." Computers were not among Quinn's everyday tools. Stacy did not pick up the conversation, so Quinn went on.  
"So, why are you calling?"

"_I just wanted to talk to you. You're busy?_"

"No. I'm catching up on the reading list. And happy for any excuse to take a break."

"_Yeah, you've moved in from cross-state. So what are you're reading? I really liked..._"

Tying up the phone line for hours was a reflex for (almost) every teenage girl and Quinn was more than happy to succumb to that temptation.

* * *

"Dad, I'll take care of the phone line immediately. That way I'll at least be able to connect my old modem." Daria said as they arrived back home from the short shopping trip.

"Sure, kiddo. Need my help?"

«_Kiddo my ass._»  
"Not for the phone line, dad, but we'll have to do something about the TV line as well. Like call an expert."

"Well, ok. But let me have a look at it."

"OK, I'll call you."

After collecting the tools and some luster terminals from the garage, her flashlight and the spool of new cable from her room, Daria climbed into the crawlspace again. She called for her father down the trap door.

"**DAD!**"

"On my way!" said Jake and soon after he ascended the fold-down ladder to the attic – and promptly hit his head on one of the low rafters.

"**Gah!** My head! Dammit! This place is cramped."

"Tell me about it, dad."

Since Daria was about an inch taller than he was, he didn't have to. Once he got his bearings back, he took a quick look at the unknown territory.

"You know what's behind that door?"

"Same as here. Beside dust bunnies and dead flies: nothing."

"Seems dry up here. We can use this as storage space."

"Yes. But things likely get baked up here during the summer months. Look over here, dad."

Using her flashlight to point at the appropriate places, Daria told her father about her findings.

"They installed additional 2-by-4s to reinforce the room's walls, likely when they converted it into the padded cell. See those loose ends of cable? That's the phone line, it wasn't long enough to go around the new beams, so the just cut it. No idea about the TV, though."

Jake got the flashlight from Daria and carefully moved towards her room inspecting all visible cables and pipes.

"Looks like the antenna cable was reinstalled when the room was remodeled. Nothing visibly wrong with that."

"Told you I didn't see a thing. That needs to be looked at again."

"I'll see what we can do, Daria. Let's fix that phone line!"

"Hm, dad, it's too cramped up here to do that together without constantly blocking each other. And somebody needs to pull the cable to my room, so why don't you go down there."

Daria looked at her father who pondered her words.  
"Pull the cable?"

"It needs to go through the wall's hollow, dad. I just fix the new cable to the old and you pull the old cable out of the wall in my room. Et voila, we're done."

"Oh, yes. Sure!" said Jake as he went down to Daria's room.

* * *

The whole process didn't take much time. Together, they put the new cable quickly into place, and Daria connected the cable to the socket in her room. Before connecting the cables, Daria made sure everybody knew that the phone could act up and no calls were currently being made.

"I'll use my cell phone" was her mother's answer, and Daria went to notify her sister next.

* * *

Quinn was still on the phone when somebody knocked at her door.  
"...and it's just facade? That's ridiculous. Hold a moment, someone wants to see me."  
Quinn covered the receiver and invited her guest with a brief "Yes" without getting up from her bed.

Her sister entered, took in the scene, and pointed at the telephone.  
"I'm fixing my line, and that's gonna interrupt your call."

Quinn made pleading eyes at Daria, so her sister would not make her interrupt the phone call immediately.  
"Just a moment. Please."

Daria nodded at her indicating that she gave her some more time, but a gesture told Quinn to hurry up. Once Daria had left her room, Quinn resumed the conversation.  
"Stacy, that was my sister, I'm going to have to end the call soon."

"_Oh. Your sister._" Stacy's voice sounded unhappy.

"Yes, she's fiddling with the broken phone line to her room."

"_She's gone, now?_"

«_What was that about?_»  
"Yeah, she's gone downstairs and waiting for us to finish. But I guess it's just the 'good byes' that are left. We meet at school tomorrow, anyway."

"_Hmmm, at school. We share Home Ec. right before lunch._"

"One of the few classes where talking is acceptable. At least during the practical parts."  
«_And one of the few classes that neither Sandi nor Tiffany shares with us._»

"_We'll talk there, Quinn. Bye then!_"

Quinn knew it was now - or not for a long time. "Stacy, hold a sec. I..."  
Quinn's voice suddenly lacked her usual self-assuredness.

"_Hmm?_"

"Stacy, I'm really glad you've called me. I ... it's not like I have that many people to talk to. Right now, after the move. If you'd give me your number..."  
Quinn walked over to her desk where her note book was laying.

"_Sure, Quinn. Got pen and paper?_"

"Right here."  
Quinn was relieved. Things were on the way back to normal.

* * *

Daria hadn't finished the soda she had retrieved from the fridge when Quinn came downstairs and told her that she had cleared the phone.

"Thanks. I'll try to make this quick."

Daria immediately went to the attic and connected the cables with the luster terminals. Once she didn't pay enough attention and shortened two wires, causing all phones in the house to emit an irritated ring, but beside that there were no ill side effects. All phones were working afterwards, and her own phone finally produced the dial tone. With the receiver at her ear listening to the dial tone, Daria noted that something was still missing:  
Someone to make a call to.

* * *

"Daria, are you done cleaning the peas?" Jake asked while stirring the large stewpot that sat on the cooker. Daria, who was busy peeling potatoes looked shortly over her shoulder at her father.

"No Dad, I haven't even started."

"Dammit, Daria, we need to add them now to the stew so everything is cooked at the same time."

"No Dad, the potatoes need to go in first, they take longer to cook."

Done with the peeling, Daria started to chop the potatoes to bite size.

"I'm doing the cooking today and you're just helping. It's my recipe, and that says the peas need to go in now!"

Jake left the cooker and focussed his attention solely on his daughter.

"You may be cooking, it may be your recipe, and sticking to it will turn the peas in a lovely gooey mess without the tiniest amount of remaining bite."  
«_Dad, the basics!_»

"My recipe says they need to go in now."

Daria put the knife down and looked again at her father, who had his arms akimbo and glared at her.  
"I'd really like to see that!"

"You can't because I have it memorized! A decent cook doesn't need a written recipe. Reading instructions breaks your concentration. It will take a while for you to understand that."

«_My memorized recipe says so. Sure._»  
Daria turned around and folded her arms.  
"A decent cook **knows** that potatoes take longer than peas and deduce that the recipe is wrong."

Jake took a half-step towards Daria.  
"Are you saying that I'm not a decent cook?!"

Daria saw her father's temper rising, and tried hard to stick to the facts. «_What's your bloody problem?_»  
"Ha, no, I'm just saying you're bad at memorizing recipes."

Jake had not even listened to her answer and raised his voice well above domestic level.  
"NO ONE SAYS I'M A BAD COOK!"

Daria felt her own temper rising. Her willpower would not hold much longer. She matched her level to her father's to keep the chance to get through to him.  
"NO ONE **IS** SAYING THAT. You just SUCK at following instructions."

"I DONT NEED ANY BLOODY INSTRUCTIONS!"  
Jake was well past the point of no return into his rant.

"OF COURSE NOT. YOU CAN PERFECTLY MESS ANY FOOD UP ON YOUR OWN!"

"I DO NOT SERVE ANY INEDIBLE FOOD TO ANY CHILD OF MINE, NOT LIKE THAT LOUSY CORPORAL ELLENBOGEN HAD THEM SERVE US AT MY MILITARY SCHOOL."

"RIGHT, HE DID IT ON PURPOSE. YOU JUST SCREW EVERYTHING UP."

"THE SOUP WAS FAR TOO SALTY BUT WE HAD TO EAT IT ANYWAY BECAUSE WE WOULDN'T GET THE MAIN COURSE OTHERWISE."

Daria took a half-step of her own towards her father; their faces were now merely inches apart.  
"YOU WOULD COOK REALLY WELL IF YOU'D JUST STICK TO THE FRIGGIN' RECIPES INSTEAD OF EXPERIMENTING."

"DO YOU UNDERSTAND THE PAIN OF GOING TO BED HUNGRY? NO, BECAUSE **I** MAKE SURE THERE IS EDIBLE FOOD AROUND FOR ALL OF YOU."

"YOUR EXPERIMENTS RENDER SO MANY GROCERIES INEDIBLE, THE AMOUNT COULD MAKE A REAL IMPACT ON MALNUTRITION AT GLOBAL LEVEL!"

* * *

Quinn heard her father's and sister's voices from downstairs. They were at it again.  
«_It has been a while. And the time was about right._»

Quinn went into the living room and found her mother sitting in the love seat in front of her numerous files. However, she wasn't working, but looking in at the partially opened door leading to the kitchen. Through that door Daria's and Jake's voices didn't drift, but washed into the room.  
"They are at it once again?"

"Hear for yourself."  
Helen made a gesture towards the kitchen, frustration clearly in her voice. These rants made her always uncomfortable. She had tried many times to calm Daria and Jake down, but her efforts had usually made things worse - she had been sucked into the matter. And while Daria and Jake did take no real offence during these proceedings, Helen did. And Daria had some prime choice nasty comments for everything if she wasn't keeping her tongue in check. The result had been that Helen was angry beyond belief at both of them while they were already best friends again.

Trying even the simplest physical gesture was out of question for Helen. Being the smallest – and lightest – member of the family she felt always helpless when Jake and Daria celebrated their Morgendorffer traits.

"THERE'S A REASON THAT THE RECIPES HAVE TO BE FOLLOWED EXACTLY AS WRITTEN. THOSE BOOKS HAVE BEEN WRITTEN AND TRIED BY EXPERTS!"

"BE THANKFUL, MY FATHER NEVER LET ME HELP IN THE KITCHEN. 'COOKING IS FOR GIRLS'. HA, OLD MAN, YOU FAIL! ALL BIG CHEFS ARE MALE!"

"AND YOU THINK BEING A GIRL IS A BAD THING? TRY BEING ME!"

"Mom, what are they going on about? Cooking?"  
Quinn asked her mother to divert her, sensing her discomfort. Their voices were loud enough to understand every single word - out in the backyard with all doors closed. Helen just nodded.

Quinn hoped that the new house had enough space around it that the neighbours wouldn't notice. Or at least ignore it and not call the police, as had happened twice back in Highland. That was the worst outcome of their shout-outs. Otherwise, they would stop eventually, wonder what they had been yelling about, shrug, and go on with whatever they had been doing before, not caring what effects the fallout of their ranting had on the people around them. For example scaring her mother.  
"I guess they'll be done any minute."

"I really hope."

"I'll have a look. Maybe I can calm them a little."

Helen looked at her daughter, wondering why she simply wouldn't stay clear of a ranting Daria. Or Daria and Jake ranting at each other. Jake on his own was easily distracted, but with the two of them at it, the best option was to wait until they calmed down on their own.  
«_But there's no way to concentrate on the files with this ruckus in the background._»

* * *

Quinn entered the kitchen and saw her sister and her father standing inches apart, their faces red, shouting at each other. Just shouting, there was no communication involved in the process.

"...ALL YOUR CARING WON'T GIVE YOU A CLUE IF YOU DON'T USE YOUR BRAIN!"

"...BUT NO, I HAD TO DO IT **HIS** WAY!"

Quinn walked towards the fridge with the intention to get herself a soda, and purposely chose a path that would require Daria and her father to step aside to let her pass. But she didn't make it that far.

"WHO CARES ABOUT... what's that smell, dad?"

"DO NOT TRY TO DISTRA...yeah, that smells really funny...GAH! THE STEW!"

Jake immediately returned to the stewpot that still sat on the cooker. Not being stirred during their rant, it had started to burn. He was quick enough to stop himself from stirring the stew now.  
"Daria, get another pot!"

Jake's command was unnecessary, as Daria was already busy looking for another pot big enough to hold the stew; at least, the uncontaminated remains.

Quinn tried not to smirk too much while she got herself the soda.  
"You think you'll be able to save it, or should I order something?"

Daria and Jake were busy transferring the top portion of the stew into the second pot. Daria sampled a little.  
"No, I think this'll be ok for dinner; stop Dad, we won't get a complete second meal out of it anyway."  
There was a slight hint of burned taste, but it was faint and about half of the ingredients were still to be added.

Quinn looked at her sister. Her, she did believe. Her father's definition of 'edible' was too different from her own, though. She returned to the living room, and behind her Daria and Jake busied themselves with the dinner. She sat across from her mother, who still hadn't returned to her files.

"They're done. Saved by the stew."

This was good news for Helen, and her face spoke volumes. She sniffed and noticed the faint burnt odor that emerged from the kitchen.  
"And saved from the stew?"

"No, they could salvage enough for dinner. I already offered to order out."

Helen nodded, and had a look at the table full of the files.  
"I wish they wouldn't do that."

"Me neither, but it's just what they do. And as long as they limit it to the house..."

Quinn took another sip from her soda giving her mother some time to think about her argument.

"There's that."

"And it doesn't happen out of the blue by a loooong way."

"There's that as well. And luckily Jake rants far less often on his own since they started doing that."

"Must be a group activity." Quinn shrugged.

* * *

Jane looked at the two sketches of 'Darius' and 'Daria' she had drawn at the beginning of the week, and was finally able to appreciate the humor of the whole situation.  
«_I bet some higher entities are pointing their fingers, tentacles, or whatever at me and laughing themselves silly._»

Trent had not dared to wake her up before nine o'clock, but that was just because 'daring' required being awake. Jane had gotten up around eleven, caffeinated herself, and used the pleasant autumn weather for a breakfast run. Getting a drink from the fridge showed her that there was still food left from Monday's trip to Food Lord. Trent had somehow managed to keep the band away from the kitchen. After her shower, Jane treated herself to a nice brunch consisting of pop-tarts, cup ramen, and some peanuts.

Now Jane, after she had grudgingly brought her homework to the 'can-barely-get-away-with-it' level, browsed through her work-in-progress art and had come across the sketches. She really had to get Daria to model for her, and after some days had passed (and two PE classes that had left nothing to imagination) Jane was sure she would be able to paint her without going insane. Daria's body was unusual, she'd be an unusual model, and Jane loved her art unusual.

Daria's sister would be a more suitable model if Jane wanted the classical model qualities. However, Jane was not sure if she had what it takes to pose for a painted picture. Photography was likely more suited to capture her, but that wasn't Jane's medium. And somehow Jane had the hunch that the girl was already on her way to become a professional model. Her walk and posture did not seem natural, but rather schooled and honed.

The difference between the girls still puzzled Jane as much as their adult appearance did. Daria was chunky as her sister was dainty. There was no doubt about the outcome if sibling rivalry ever got physical between those two. Jane was even less than Daria's sister, in size and weight. She shuddered at the possible things a malevolent Daria could do to her without breaking a sweat.  
«_Note to self: Never piss her off and run across her in a dark alleyway afterwards._»

* * *

"_Hi Jodie._"

"Ah, hi Mack, sweet that you're calling. How do you do?"

"_Thanks, I'm ok, but how do you do? How'd that formal dinner with your dad go?_"

"It was very nice, the food was really good, the party pleasant and I met some really influential people."

"_Jodie..._" Mack answered in a voice that made clear that he did not believe a single word.

"Alright, alright! The food had pompous names to make sure none complained about its taste, mom made me wear that itchy, uncomfortable dress, and I was forced to smile at a bunch of stuck-up snobs wasting four goddamn hours of my friggin' life!"

"_Sooo..._"

"It sucked **BIG** time and I hated every minute."

"_I'm really sorry._"

"It's not your fault."

"_Hmm, but I could do nothing to save you from the ordeal. Sometimes I feel so useless._"

"Mack, there was nothing you could do. Do you believe "Sorry, I can't, date with my boyfriend" would stand before dad?"

"_I wish I could. I'd like to spend more time with you._"

"Yes, me too. Spending time with you doing nothing sounds like heaven."

"_At least we can talk this way._"

"Yes, but not too long; I have still homework to finish and a student council meeting to prepare."

"_Damn. Jodie, you should really try to quit some of those activities._"

Her anger was audible in Jodie's voice.

"Mack, you should really try to slap some sense into Kev... I'm sorry Mack. I know you mean well, but..."

"_... your parents won't get off your back. I know as well._"

Prolonged silence filled the line, as each of the conversation's participants recalled the arguments they had exchanged again and again on that matter without reaching a solution.

"_So, I won't keep you from your work any longer. You need to be able to get __**some**__ sleep tonight._"

""You can sleep all you want once you're dead." Thanks for understanding, Mack."

"'_night Jodie. Love you._"

"Good night Mack, and love you, too. Bye."

"_Bye._"

Putting the handset down, Jodie sat down at her desk, but instead of immediately starting her home work she wasted valuable time staring at the wall in front of her.

* * *

On the other end of the line, Mack mirrored her actions as anger and frustration battled to be the dominant emotion.  
«_If she keeps going on like that, she'll have her midlife crisis before she hits twenty._»

Thinking about his team mates, who likely were at some party getting hammered and making out with some cheerleaders right now, frustration got the upper hand.  
«_My girlfriend has not even time to talk to me._»

* * *

The weekend ended slowly and Daria did a quick update on her journals.

She got herself a top-notch new jacket for the winter. There was another blow-up between her father and her over dinner. Completely pointless, as usual. But she was stressed from the week before and hadn't had it in her to stop herself. Luckily, there was no harm done. As usual. But it felt just right.  
«_Damn, I'm a freak._»

In the snoop-bait she resumed the protection money story, getting a jacket with kevlar lining gave it a nice touch. Not that she would have minded if her new jacket had really bullet-proof interior lining.

Once finished, she 'hid' it again in its usual spot, readied herself for the night, and went to bed with the resolution to let the next week not get to her like the previous had.


	8. Chapter 8 Mirage

**Size does matter - Chapter 8**

**by HawkingRadiation**

Story (c )2008 by HawkingRadiation (a.k.a. BlackHole PPMB, SFMB)  
Daria and associated characters are (c) 2008 MTV Networks

* * *

**Mirage**

On Monday morning Daria's alarm woke her a little under an hour earlier than the week before. Silently, she got out of bed, dressed, grabbed her things, and tiptoed towards the kitchen. Unexpectedly, her mother was up as well, though still in her bathrobe.

"Mornin'"  
Daria wasn't a person for idle chatter in general, and especially not much for speaking that early in the morning. She grabbed the food for her breakfast, most of it going into her backpack.

Her daughter being up at a rather unusual time immediately piqued Helen's interest. Anything out of the ordinary could spell trouble, and Daria already gave her enough grief.  
"Morning sweety. What are you doing up and dressed already?"

"Gym before school. Shower there."  
Daria did not stall her preparations; she had calculated her waking hour as tight as possible to maximise her bed time while still being able to be at school at 7am.

"That's nice sweety. I'm going to leave early today. Big case in the firm."

"Go get them." said Daria, now dressed in boots and her jacket. She picked up the backpack, grabbed an apple for the walk and left.

"See you tonight, mom."

* * *

Walking through the deserted school grounds and hallways was an unusual experience for Daria. Most of the rooms were still shrouded in darkness, and only every other light was lit in the hallways to reduce power consumption, creating a dim twilight. The sounds of her footsteps disturbed the silence of the building, and Daria noted a low echo adding to the eerie experience.

Daria changed into her training clothes and decided to don a loose t-shirt over her usual sports bra. She entered the empty, but full lit gym. Without anybody interfering, Daria began her training with the cardiac exercises to warm up.

About 10 minutes into her training, a voice interrupted her.  
"Who're you?"

Daria startled a little and interrupted her training on the free weights. Turning around she spotted a pudgy man, likely the coach, standing in the gym's doorframe.

"Daria."

"And what are you doing here?!"

«_Get some glasses. Or a seeing-eye dog._»  
"Training."

Daria got up and lifted the dumbbell she was holding. Her size and the amount of iron on it obviously impressed the coach, as he was speechless. Daria pressed on to go back to her exercises.  
"If that's settled, I'll continue."

Coach Gibson was still flabbergasted and stared as 'Daria' went through her sets, his breakfast donuts and newspaper currently forgotten. Taking in the figure in the sweaty t-shirt, he slowly arrived at the conclusion that he was looking at a girl. Then he recalled Ms. Morris' warning. This was indeed something that he needed to see to believe.

The girl was huge, had serious muscles and lifted on the the level of the strongest football players on the team. He stood in the gym's door and simply watched her. No one else was around to train, and most likely no one would show up. Monday morning was a time that all the regulars avoided to catch up on sleep.

It was unusual for Gibson to monitor the gym; the regulars knew about enough not to injure themselves too often, and he used the time for his breakfast. Today was different. On one hand he didn't know the girl and had to make sure that there wouldn't be an accident. He note rather fast that this turned out to be unnecessary. She was not new at this and showed a by-the-book handling of the gear.

On the other hand he watched her in order to get the fact that she was a high school girl into his mind. She looked way older, and not girly at all. She was massive and her muscles were not for show either. Together with her enormous height, she was an impressive sight. As she went through her training, Gibson tried to come up with a reason that could have made a girl the way she was.

* * *

Jamie White woke up at some godless hour in the morning. His date with one of the cheerleaders the evening before had not gone well at all. The girl was too boring to talk to, and unwilling to take part in a make-out session that would have made her shut up. So they decided rather early to cut the date short and returned home. Frustrated, he had gone to bed unusually early, and woke up well before seven in the morning as a result. Trying to get back to sleep proved to be futile. The thoughts of the failed date were nagging him, and he dreaded the teasing his team mates would deliver.

He finally decided to put some use to the time. Some exercise would clear his mind. He put on his running gear, left home, and took the long way to school. There he would spend some twenty minutes in the gym to conclude his morning workout. After a shower and a little breakfast he would be ready to start the new week at school.

The streets were empty as were the parks, and the quiet let his mind soar free while running. Maybe getting up early hadn't been so bad after all.

After arriving at school and redressing for the gym, he wondered about coach Gibson standing in the gym's door, and the fact that someone else was training besides himself. He didn't spend any thought on that, but immediately started to do his exercises. He had some frustration to sweat out.

But even if he did not pay attention to the other guy, he did not fail to notice how strong he was. Especially when he tried to use machines he had seen him using beforehand. He had to lower the weight settings each and every time to fit his own needs.

* * *

On her way to the showers, Daria found the coach still standing in the door frame. Lost in thought he stared at her, so she addressed him in passing.  
"Staring's rude, you know?"

His eyes sprung back into focus. "Huh?"

"Is it always that overcrowded?"

Jamie was still completing his last exercise for the day, but looked up as he heard the guy's odd voice.

"Ah, no, just on Mondays."

"Ah, ok. See you on Wednesday, then."

Jamie stared, flabbergasted as the guy entered the girls' locker room without the slightest hesitation. Pointing there, he addressed the coach.  
"Did he just...? He just went..."

The coach just shook his head. "He? She. But I still can't believe that myself."

It took a while for Jamie White to process that input. **She** was the other new student the rumor mill had been busy about, the sophomore. The freshmen girl shared some classes with him, so he had gotten a good eyeful of her. She made a good distraction from any boring subjects.

While Jamie took a shower – on his own, in the boy's showers – he slowly became awed by the other girl. Initially, he had just noted the strength of some anonymous upperclassman, but her being a girl put that in an entirely different perspective.  
«_Oh – my – god._»

Walking to class, he noted that his failed date didn't nag him anymore.  
«_Good riddance._»

* * *

After a shower and a substantial breakfast, Daria lounged through home room and her first class. Her still damp hair was almost dry as the first class ended and indoors the chill of late October was not felt. No need to bother with a hairdryer. Being a low-maintainance type had its perks. Quinn would die if she had to sit through class with wet hair.  
«'_No bounciness!?! No-hooo way!'_»

Daria felt the right strain in her muscles, and the pleasant after effects of physical exhaustion let her glide through class easily. Social science was a subject she could ace with her attention set to 50%. Her last teacher did not appreciate most of her comments, so she had decided to stick to just answering the questions — with just some subtle sarcasm.

She would stick to the same strategy at LHS. Another parent-teacher conference would not be well received with her parents. Especially not her mother, and after the Saturday's announcement, she'd rather keep a low profile in that department. And that weird principal could get involved. That was something to be avoided under all circumstances.

* * *

On his way to his home room, one of his team mates, still in high spirits from the weekend, walked up to Jamie.  
"Hey, Jamie, man. Missed you at the party yesterday. Hot date, hmm? Got lucky?"

"Kind of a date, but way no luck."

"Ah, dude, that sucks, what happened?"

"She was all 'blah, blah' and bored me out of my mind, but didn't play along when I tried to move on to some non-verbal communication to shut her up. So we parted ways early."

"Ha, no action for Jamie-boy yesterday. Good luck next time. But you didn't missed much at the party either. Pretty much like every weekend, and there was just beer, no booze."

"Yeah, that's the usual. Well, woke up much too early today and got some training done. So it wasn't all a loss."

"Training on a Monday morning, that's just bizarre. You're getting old or ambitious, man."

"Talk about bizarre. I wasn't alone in the gym this morning."

"So you aren't the only sicko around – who's the other? Must be someone from the defense dudes."

"No dude. Dudette."

"Huh?"

"Female. Girl. You know, there's a difference betw..."

"Ah, man, don't complain about a failed date if you get to watch a nice piece of ass while training. Or was it one of the fat chicks?"

"180 pounds at least, but..."

"Fat chick doing desperate advertising. **Yuk**. Go on, complain."

"...but no fat. And no advertising involved."

"Seriously Jamie, you need to get laid, you're already seeing things. Later!"

After receiving a slap on his shoulder Jamie looked after his friend leaving.  
«_Wednesday. Wednesday, she said. Just wait until Wednesday._»

* * *

Sandi sat in class and could barely contain her smile. Things were working according to the plan. She had just overheard the hushed conversation of the two medium popular girls behind her and the topic happened to be that Quinn. They speculated that Quinn, being so eager to attract any male attention, was likely also very free with her favors to keep that attention.

Sandi had no idea where that rumour stemmed from. All she had done was commented on how orchestrated and **calculated** Quinn's movements were, especially in the vicinity of boys, during a party on Saturday. But anybody could have made those observations.  
«_Too bad that people are that easily influenced._»

* * *

From the safety of the boys' restroom, Charles was spying through the slightly opened door and watched **her** change her books at her locker. Said locker was on the upper row, 'coincidentally' situated exactly above his locker. He had to admit, the feminazis were a clever bunch. This way, she was bound to run into him several times a day and always had an excuse to come after him between periods. Their plan was devious, but Charles was no dummy either.

When he had realized this fact the Wednesday before, he had stayed an hour after school to clean his locker out. He nearly had a heart attack when he had spotted her leaving the brainwa..., aeh, self-esteem class exactly the hour after classes that he had allotted as safety margin. He wasn't sure what she had been doing during that hour, but he was sure that it had not been attending that class. His bet was on this being a coverup so she could have clandestine meetings with Ms. Barch.

Once he was sure that she had left the school grounds, he had proceeded to remove all suspicious items from his locker. Pinups, magazines, photography equipment, pictures he had shot on his own. Anything that was not directly related to his school work was gone now. The bottle with the protein dissolving enzyme solution he had mail-ordered had arrived on Saturday. Today he would make his locker **really** clean. He wasn't sure if that was really necessary, but he wouldn't take any risk. This was a conflict Charles could not afford to lose.

* * *

"...and then things really went down. Thank god Sandi had the foresight to skip out of the party well before the police arrived. 'Fat, sweaty cops. EWWW.' And I made my curfew this way. Mom was really surprised."

"Hmmm" was Quinn's absent-minded answer. Stacy looked up from stirring the dough and watched Quinn chopping some hazelnuts with a rather large knife. Large for Stacy, but not quite so large for Quinn.  
"Hey, you're good at this. I'd have nuts and blood everywhere."

Quinn looked up, stopped, and used the interruption to stand upright for a second and stretch her back.  
"Not really. Just enough to get a decent grade."

"But it looks so professional. Like you're regularly cooking at home."

"I avoid cooking as much as I can. That kitchen smell in the clothes alone is bad, but in my hair...yuk. And you know what washing your hair daily does to its structure. That's murder!"

"Oh, right. So your mom's doing the cooking — like mine is. That's nice."

"If microwaving a frozen lasagna counts as cooking she is - sometimes." Quinn answered and focused her attention on the hazelnuts again.

"You guys have convenience food or take-out all the time? Whoa, how do you manage to keep that figure and complexion with all the junk food? You really need to tell me how you do that, maybe I'll be able to have pizza with cheese. Every now and then."  
«_Whenever Sandi isn't around._»

"Naah, only little junk stuff every now and then. Dad and Daria cook. So I've no secret junk food strategies - beside the usual, you know: eat little, eat wise." Quinn shrugged.

Stacy's eyes went wide as she processed that little bit of new information embedded into the small talk. With Quinn and Daria being sisters, Stacy had no trouble to imagine Daria in Quinn's position. In Stacy's mind Quinn lost two inches, gained weight, and morphed into Daria. Daria, with her usual expressionless face wielding a rather large knife. Stacy shuddered at that thought.

"Here, done. Stir them in." Quinn said after she had walked over right behind Stacy and poured the nut bits into the dough. Stacy had conveniently stopped the stirring.

Lost in her thoughts, Stacy startled and turned her head as Quinn's voice made her realize how close she suddenly was. Even after a week, Quinn's size was still amazing, especially when she stood so close to Stacy. With Quinn towering more than a foot above her (and her assets shoved into her face), she felt a bit reverted to childhood again.

"Eep. Ah, thanks." Stacy started to fold in the nuts and was glad that Quinn had already moved over to the oven to prepare it for the cake. Quinn hadn't noticed that she had spaced out again. When Stacy did that, she always had to speed up to catch up with things, which was really hard.

The rest of the class was a quick affair. Cleaning up the used tools and doing the nutrition report was all that was left to do. Quinn worked through the lists almost completely on her own, and Stacy was not going to stop her. In the end, all that was left was watching the cake rise while chatting. Stacy really enjoyed that, as Quinn was very easy to talk to and she generally felt at ease around her.

As the class ended, Stacy set her watch so she could interrupt her lunch period in time to retrieve the cake from the oven. After Quinn did the maths she felt obliged. The future home ec. classes would not be so easy going; the teacher was set to make sure the girls were able to bake properly for Christmas - and would not stop below confectionery level.

* * *

Daria sat through lunch at a table in the corner of the room. During the previous week she had noted that this was one of the spots were the people of the non-group gathered - the same way people gathered in a bus. Pure necessity. At least one seat separated everyone from everybody else, and no words were spoken, creating a small sphere of relative clam in the flood of noise that permeated the room.

That suited Daria well. Immediately after she had finished eating the relishable parts of the school lunch, she started to work on her homework. With the afternoon wasted on the Ministry of Love, she had no further time to waste, especially considering the training in the evening. She made serious progress before the bell announced the end of her lunch period.

On the rather long trip from lunch to her Ethics class Daria passed by the Freshman hallways, whose occupants were eagerly heading towards the lunchroom she just had vacated.  
«_For what ever reason._»

Among the masses she immediately spotted her sister, her carrot top towering above everyone else in the hallway. She was walking among a group of girls that seemed to encompass another familiar face. Daria passed the junction too fast to get a second glimpse, and the break was too tight to go back and have another look.

Hence it took her a while to match the face to her memories. The memories of last week's Tuesday morning.  
«_She's a freshman? But driving a car?_»  
Daria felt a little bit jealous. She was eagerly waiting for her to get her own license as the first declaration of independence.

Thinking how that could be possible, different plausible courses of events came up to Daria. None of them was completely convincing. Maybe Quinn knew more.

* * *

Stacy and Quinn walked towards the lunchroom together and met up with Stacy's friends Sandi and Tiffany while still being in the freshman hallway. They didn't have to hurry, as none dared to occupy 'their' table, as Quinn had found out. The three girls of the Fashion Club were obviously respected by the freshman class. Or feared. Quinn wasn't sure about that.

Sandi noticed again the space the other students gave Quinn as she walked down the hallway, much to her disdain. But then, Sandi herself did profit from that space as well as soon as Quinn joined up with her and Tiffany. No doubt, Quinn could be an asset to the Fashion Club - but controlling her would be a real challenge. This was like playing with fire. Very nice, unless things got out of control...

Standing in line was a degrading affair and the food was even worse. All the girls could do was select the lesser evil. Quinn pondered how much crow she would have to eat in order to get Daria to prepare a lunch for her. The psychological strain was not high enough yet to get up another ten minutes earlier and put her home ec. knowledge to a test on regular basis. Not with Daria around, who had nearly offered to do so on the Saturday. But all the crow...

Lost in thought Quinn simply followed the other girls towards a table and sat down with them. Sandi observed this with a frown when she noticed how naturally Quinn fit in with them, how neither Tiffany nor Stacy complained as she occupied a seat at the Fashion Club's table as if she was a member. As if she had always been a member. Stacy was suspiciously friendly with her, pointing out the different guys of the grade and their popularity. Sandi seethed internally.

"Gee, Stacy, don't you think Quinn here is quite able to assess guys on her own?"  
«_I do not spill highly valuable information for free - this is one of the reasons why __**I**__ am the president of the Fashion Club after all._»

"Eep. Sorry, Sandi, Quinn. I didn't mean to belittle you. I guess you are more than able to distinguish the good guys from the bad. Or the Mathletics Club."

Quinn, who was still a little lost in thought and had only listened half heartedly while pushing her food on her plate around just said "No problem, Stacy." without further pursuing the issue.

«_You don't even notice when people subtly insult you?_» Sandi noticed for further usage. After Sandi had snapped at her, Stacy did not dare to speak up again, rendering the table silent while the girls separated the edible parts of the lunch from the filler material.

"Todaaay's fooood is reaaaly baaaaad." Tiffany said, mirroring Quinn's actions.

"Gee, Tiffany, we hadn't noticed that." Sandi now snapped at Tiffany, and her foul mood did not go past Quinn. Bad vibes radiated from Sandi like rays from the midday sun in late August scorching the earth. Even the boys three tables down the aisle who had been planning to do some further digging at the cuties were smart enough to postpone that to a later time.

Looking down at her plate, Quinn noticed that whatever was left on her plate was not worth further disassembling. It had become obvious that she was currently an intruder amongst the Fashion Club, and she decided to give them some privacy.

"God, the food's awful. I'm going to the bathroom. See you in class, guys."  
That said, Quinn got up, picked up her lunch tray, and left to hand it back before leaving the room.

* * *

As usual, any development at the Fashion Club's table was monitored by several parties. The not-so-popular girls were looking for any chance to rise to the top of the social order, the cheerleaders always had an eye on possible competition, and all boys not engrossed into conversations about football, cars, or computers were ogling girls anyway. The boys three tables down the aisle were most determined, and hence paid close attention to the Fashion Club.

"Man, what's up with them? Talk about bad vibes."

"I don't even want to know, but I tell you: Not going over there did ensure our survival."

"But we won't make any progress if we don't move in on the target. Think about the upcoming weekend!"

"Who cares. Look at that. Oh, wow. That alone makes it worth to go to the lunch room." said another boy, his eyes shamelessly glued on Quinn's derrière.

His friend put his cutlery on the lunch tray and was about to get up. "Hey, Legs's leaving the danger zone. Come on, let's follow her and chat her up!"

"Stop, no man. That'd be stupid."

"And why is that? Hurry, she has almost left."

"First, it'd be subtle like a sledge hammer."

"And...?"

"And second I think I should not be standing up right now." said the second boy with a silly grin.

* * *

Quinn's voluntary departure gave Sandi the feeling of being in control again. She had won this time. She waited while the remaining three girls sorted through their lunch.

"Tiffany, dear, you were right. Today's lunch was exceptionally bad."

Tiffany looked up, somewhat wary. It did not occur often that Sandi concurred with her.  
"Awwwwful."

"Maybe we should consider bringing our own lunch." Stacy said since the sky seemed to have cleared a little. "This way we could decide on our own what to get. And care for quality."

That idea had crossed Sandi's mind a long time ago, but she had dismissed it since it was just not feasible for her.  
"That'd be a good idea, Stacy, but do popular people stand in the kitchen or in the spotlight?"

Stacy noted that this had just been the eye of the storm. "In the spotlight?"

"Right. This is exactly why you should have stayed out of home ec. And where should our bring-in lunch come from, then, if we're not going to prepare it by ourselves? Which would mean getting up earlier, by the way, and you know how important sufficient sleep is for your complexion!"  
«_And it would mean learning to do it, firsthand._»

"We could just ask our parents?"

"Stacy, your mother may be clueless and unemployed and have time for this. **My** mother cannot afford to spend time in the kitchen with her career, and our housekeeper starts work after I leave for school. And that's the same for the rest of us. Or do you think everyone, for example that Quinn, has somebody to delegate that task to?"

"I guess she'd just ask her sister. She can't do more than say no."

«_Counter arguments from Stacy?_» "Pardon?!"

"Daria enjoys cooking, so Quinn'd likely just ask her."

Sandi's mental eye could not create the image of a domestic Daria, but came up with the image of a dominating Daria instead. She immediately banned that from her mind again, but stored it for later reference. Sandi's eyes narrowed.  
"And how come you know that?"

"Quinn and I chatted in home ec." Stacy said and cringed under the intensity of Sandi's interrogation.

"And your intention was to keep that information to yourself?"

Stacy cowered a little at the bile in Sandi's voice. The beeping of her wrist watch was a welcome distraction.  
"Gotta fetch the cake from the home ec. oven! Later, guys."

Stacy left the lunch room above a fashionable pace. Another thing Sandi would have to talk to her about in a quiet minute later on. After all, **she** was the president of the Fashion Club. And she was planning for things to stay that way.

* * *

Daria was on her way towards her Economy class when a familiar voice addressed her.

"Hey Daria."

Turning around, she found Michael-call-me-Mack approaching her.  
"Hi Mack."

They were tight on time, so they matched speed and headed towards another class they shared while talking.

"Uhm, Daria, say, you wouldn't know anything about something unusual happening at the gym before school today?"

"Unusual?"  
Daria had a pretty good idea what this was about but avoided a direct answer; Mack seemed like a nice guy, but he was obviously fishing for information, and any information could lead to unpleasant rumors. There was no limit to the mangling capacity of the general student body.

"There are two different rumors among the football players. About some guy going into the girls' shower after the morning gym to shag his girlfriend with coach Gibson watching. Or some guy "in touch with his girly side" taking the girls' shower. And planning to do so again on Wednesday."

Daria shrugged. "So...?"

"If the first was true it'd give the other guys ideas. And the slightest hint of a gay guy on the team...it's upsetting them. An uneasy team is the captain's problem. Damn idiots."

Daria snorted. Prejudices were something she despised, and sexism was something Daria was familiar with. At least a very unique form of sexism.  
"Being ogled at is not fun? Did the team poll the cheerleaders on that?"

Mack was a little surprised at the harsh tone that had crept into Daria's voice during her answer. The more he got to know her the more he realized that he did not really know her. He tried a little diversion.  
"Well, you know, guys."

Daria was tempted to give a rather sharp answer,but stopped herself from stooping down to their level.  
"No. Not guys. **Stupid** guys."

Approaching the classroom, Mack noticed that he'd have to hurry if he wanted any information before the class.  
"So, do you know anything?"

Daria looked down at Mack and thought about what she should tell him. There was no reason to lie to him. But there was no reason to supply Mack with supple information either. The opportunity to quell a potentially unpleasant rumor won out.

Before they separated to their respective seats and Mack had a chance to ask further questions, Daria threw Mack a morsel of information.  
"**I** didn't notice anything unusual in the gym this morning."

Sitting in his seat, it took Mack a short while to process that information - and its implications. After some pondering he came to the conclusion that his remaining time at LHS had suddenly became more interesting. But then, maybe in the sense of the Chinese curse.

* * *

Daria was not looking forward to the classes with Ms. Manson later that week. For some reason, that woman had taken a dislike to Daria and, given that Ms. Manson was the primary reason that Daria had to attend the utterly pointless self-esteem class, the feeling was mutual. With Mr O'Neill running the class, it was like the inmates running the asylum.

Daria had her music player with her and relaxed listening to music during the few minutes before the freak show started. That was one of the perks at LHS. Back in Highland, such devices were forbidden to prevent theft and mugging. Obviously, Ms. Li's zero tolerance policy and the CCTV surveillance took care of that problem.

Saving a little and then splurging on a semi-professional audio recorder had been a wise decision. It served well as a music player, but doubled for Daria as a dictaphone. Using it to record music performances or meetings had not been up Daria's line. But a facility to record a class - or a conversation - could turn out to be essential for Daria's survival at LHS. Especially around that Ms. Manson and Ms. Li. Last but not least, with some proper headphones the audio quality was simply superb.

Any word on the class's content would be more than the content itself. Daria reminded herself again to search for the textbook. A trip to the library tomorrow after school did not sound bad. She had to apply for a local card anyway.

* * *

"Hey, Daria..."

Daria, who was busy packing her stuff after the end of the self-esteem class, turned around to see who addressed her. Although the voice was familiar, she couldn't immediately associate a person with it. Almost all strangers that had spoken to her the week before had been asking stupid questions concerning her appearance. It was the girl who had hit on her the week before, exactly at the same time, exactly in the same room. Daria chuckled a little at the coincidence.

"Hi Jane Flexible."

That taunting was not helping; Jane felt a slight hint of a blush rising to her cheeks as she remembered her choice of words - and its implications.  
"I..."

«_You're hopefully not trying to imitate Scarlett Pennsylvania here..._»  
"You didn't get a sex change last week, did you?"

"Change? No? No! **NO!** I just..."

Jane fidgeted a little and Daria noticed her frantically looking everywhere but at her. Daria knew that the situation would be resolved the quickest if she assisted the other girl a little.  
"Look, I'm not going to bite you unless you're a pizza-based life form. Just tell."

Jane's eyes suddenly locked on Daria, she drew a breath, and blurted  
"I just wanted to say I am sorry."

Jane relaxed visibly once she got that off her chest and a conversation started.

«_If you did get that sex change you're a sorry excuse for a male._»  
"What for?"

"I'm sorry that I mistook you for a boy. I suppose that must feel awful, if someone does that. So, I'm sorry to have hurt you."

Daria was baffled and simply stared at the lanky girl. Not an excuse, not just an honest apology - which was rare on its own - but outright compassion. She couldn't remember if that had ever happened before. This simple, small gesture of friendliness, left her short on words.  
"I...Apology accepted."

An awkward silence seized the classroom. With everyone else gone home, Daria and Jane were its only occupants. Jane had made an impression on Daria with that gesture, and Daria was willing to return the gesture. She considered the girl's odd behaviour the week before and began to reassess her.

Jane used the time to have another close-up look at the girl - and her feelings concerning her. She still really appreciated her body, but just like she would appreciate a well done piece of art – or steak. Time had settled the turmoil of her subconscious, and the Saturday evening had really helped to assure herself of her own preferences.

"So, you're not mad at me?" Jane interrupted the silence.

"No. I am not. That has happened so many times the last two years..."

"That sucks."

"Thanks for your apology. Hardly anybody does that. And nobody thinks how it must feel on the other end."

Now it was Jane's turn to be baffled. She had considered people to have better manners. Even she with her non-upbringing had come to that... no, she hadn't. It had been Trent who had pointed her towards the issue.

"Now I feel sorry."

"Don't. I kind of got used to it."

Sensing a dead end in the conversation, Jane decided to change the topic.  
"Hold on a sec, there's something I want you to have."

She removed two loose sheets of paper from her sketchbook that she hadn't put in her backpack in preparation for this situation.

"I made these sketches of you. One's from the self esteem-class last week. Darius." Jane chuckled. "The other's from Tuesday. I want you to have them. Think of them as some kind of reparations."

Daria took the two offered pages and had a look at them. Both were done in pencil and featured her. They showed her from behind, naked, throwing a javelin in the style of a Greek statue, and one did show enough female curves to depict a clearly different gender. The latter matched Daria almost perfectly.

"That's pretty good. I didn't pose for these."

"I'm an artist. I can imagine stuff like that."

"Sooo, you undressed your 'hunk' Darius with your eyes and drew yourself a picture..."

Daria had a slight smile on her lips as she stared at Jane, and Jane felt her cheeks blush again. Daria decided to let her off the hook.

"The other's been done after Tuesday's PE?"

"Yes. And before you ask, yes, I did take a close look. Or two."

"Relax, I don't mind as long as you don't drool. It's very realistic from what I can tell." Daria glanced at the wall clock in the classroom.  
"I don't want to be rude, Jane, but I need to get going. I've got to be somewhere at six thirty, and I'd like to get some dinner into my stomach before that. We can talk more tomorrow."

Daria gave Jane just the tiniest moment to object before she turned around and headed out of the door.

"Good...bye."  
Jane watched Daria's retreating form. Her exit had been rather quick, but Jane did believe her that she had another appointment coming up. In retrospect, the conversation had been easier than Jane had expected. Daria's funny remarks had helped her to get started, and her parting words seemed like a promise. Feeling relieved that she had finally apologized and that there had been no resentment, Jane set course for home.

* * *

"May I help you?"

Daria turned around and saw the security guard of the Crewe Neck gated community had left the gatekeeper's house and approached her. His tone was friendly, he was not looking for an opportunity to bust somebody for loitering.

"Thanks, but I'm just waiting for a friend to pick me up."

The man's shock was palpable as he realized that the figure belonged to a female person.

"Aeh, aeh, and why are you waiting here?"

"Because she lives in Crewe Neck. That's her."  
«_Didn't she find a more stereotypical car?_»

A yellow New Beetle passed the automatically opening barrier from inside the community and stopped beside Daria. DeeDee waved from the inside at the guard while Daria got in. While the car made its journey towards the horizon, the guard stared open-mouthed at it. The combination of its occupants was odd beyond belief.

* * *

Jane was standing at her easel and experimenting, creating some abstract art in the process. Using engine oil to thin the oil paint was twisted and gave the paint a slightly different color and texture. Jane wondered if the added luster would survive the drying process.  
«_If that stuff dries at all. Hmm, dynamic art work. Change your picture by rotating it every other week. Has potential._»

"Hey Janey," Trent's voice came from the doorway "do you remember where I put the remaining motor oil? I'd swear there was a quarter gallon left."

"I've no idea where that could be beside the garage, Trent" Jane said while nonchalantly throwing her paint cloth over the canister in question, successfully covering it from her brother's sight.  
"But what do you need it for? You topped your clunker off ten days ago."

"Right. But I need to buy another gallon of oil. And I'd better put the rest in there before I head out."

Jane looked at her brother, who scratched the back of his head. "Trent, it's a miracle that your car runs at all."

"Hey, I get 20 miles per gallon. Gas. And 350 per gallon oil!"

"Sounds like a medium freighter to me. If there isn't any fresh oil in the garage, I recall seeing some used oil stored there. Better used oil than no oil."

"Good idea. That gets me to the gas station" was Trent's answer as he headed back to the garage.

"Yo, Trent! Aren't you forgetting something!?!" Jane shouted after her brother after stepping into the hallway.

Trent turned around and found his sister shooting him a nasty glace with her arms akimbo.

"Uh?" Trent could not remember anything. Jane started to tap her foot.

"Uhm, the oil stain on that clean shirt I borrowed last Wednesday? That was Nick's fault. Really."

Jane hit her head with her own hand.  
«_Lovely, my dear brother borrows a shirt without telling for a week and ruins it. I'll let that go ... for now._»  
She had seized numerous old dress shirts from her father's closet some time ago. She used the most worn shirts as smock replacements. Some shirts from the Seventies were that ridiculous in color and styling that Jane had kept them for occasions were she needed something really artsy. Some of the more recent and conventional shirts served as replacements for Jane's red jacket, depending on her mood and the occasion.  
"No Trent: Monday. Grocery shopping, remember? Drive to PayDay and get your oil there. That's cheaper than the gas station."

Trent noticed his double mistake and decided to make a quick exit before his sister gave him some choice words.  
"That's good thinking, Janey! Later."

Jane shouted after his retreating form.  
"Remember Trent: Only monks and bands get through the week on beer alone, but not me!"

«_Sometimes I regret that I love you, dear brother of mine. I can't even get as angry as I should._»  
Then Jane's eyes fell on the cloth covered oil canister.  
«_I hope you nicked a decent shirt._»

* * *

On the ride back from the Oakwood city green Daria spoke enough between DeeDee's constant chatter to fake enough interest to stay polite. Daria would never understand how people could give that much personal information away to a more or less stranger. But suddenly the upgraded monologue took a very interesting turn.

"Tiny, you said you're planning to train on Mondays and Thursdays?"

"Yes, if I can figure out how to get to Oakwood on Thursdays."

"I was thinking about that. Training is so much more fun with you around, I think I'll rearrange some things and switch my Friday training to Thursday. I could give you a ride on Thursdays as well. Wouldn't that be great?"

Daria looked over to DeeDee. That would solve a serious problem. At least until Daria had her own license and secured access to a car. But on the other hand...

«_What have I done..._»  
"That'd be very convenient for me, but you're sure you can reschedule without any problems?"

"I thought about it during the weekend; and my husband is going to be happy if I can free Friday night."

"That sounds too good to be true..."

"Just say yes, and it's a deal done! This is going to be so much fun, and I have somebody to talk to on the way to the training and back..."

«_Talk to or talk at? I'm so sure I will regret doing this..._»  
"Hmm. I would gladly accept. On one condition, though."

DeeDee's expression was on off disbelief; this was no path she had expected the conversation to take.  
"Condition?"

"I pay my share of the gas money."

"Ah, Tiny, that's stupid. I don't spend any money on gas. My husband keeps the car fueled up."

«_And power originates from the wall socket..._»  
"I'd feel uncomfortable if I were a permanent freeloader."

"Really? But it's not necessary."

"For me it is. I like to pull my own weight."

DeeDee shrugged.  
"If you have to. So, we have a deal?"

"Yes."

"That's great! I'm so happy to have a friend like you!"

DeeDee made a squeaky happy noise and fidgeted in the driver's seat like a teenager who had just been asked out by her prime heartthrob. The use of the f-word made Daria a tad queasy. While DeeDee was about ten years her senior, Daria thought herself to be more mature than her. She immediately scolded herself for that thought. She knew little about DeeDee and had blindly followed the airhead vibes she gave off. But DeeDee was nobody Daria would have thought of as a potential friend.

"Yeah, that's really nice."

"So I'll pick you up on Thursday..."

"...at the gate. You can drop me off there as well."

DeeDee was a little dejected. That cut their talking time short.  
"But I can give you a ride home."

"I know, but I do not want to impose. You don't need to waste that time."  
«_And I do not need to tell you where I live._»

"Oh. Ok, then. Did I tell you..."

DeeDee switched back into chatterbox mode and Daria played along. This time, Daria decided to assign at least one brain hemisphere to follow the conversation. She busied her other hemisphere with a review of the scene that had just happened. She had a steady ride to Oakwood, on both of her favored days. A woman almost twice her age had called her a friend. It was a fact that Daria's body had matured well beyond its age, and hence she looked older than she was. And for some strange reason DeeDee had taken a liking to Daria. Given, they shared the training. But from her point of view, that was about it. This would take some time to come to terms with.

* * *

Daria sat freshly showered at her computer and jotted down some more ideas for a story she was working on when the door to her room opened. Daria looked around and spotted her mother.

«_You, here again? That can only mean one thing..._»  
"Mom?" Daria said as she turned to face her mother.

"Daria, my secretary arranged a standing appointment with a local psychologist for you. And no quack. I had her call Dallas to recommend a local one, and we got you in through that connection."

«_Odd, that was more work than necessary._»  
"I guess that's better than I could expect. You know that I'm not keen on that."

"Your appointment is Tuesdays at 5pm, starting next week. That shouldn't interfere with your school activities and still allow you to get there on your own. And rest assured I'll check up on you."

"No doubt about that."

Helen gave her daughter a stern look.  
"Daria! Speaking of school: Have you found some extracurriculars that you'll be attending?"

«_Ah, crap, here we go again..._»  
"No mom. But right now I'm stuck in that self-esteem class every afternoon, anyway."

"Hmm, right. But you'd better start looking right now to start something as soon as you're out of there. All good colleges are expecting more than just good grades!"

"The ability to pay their ridiculous tuition fees?"

Helen shook her head at her daughter. That, at least, would not be a problem.  
"Daria."

Her mother's stare made it clear to Daria that she was expecting an answer, and 'No' was no valid option.  
"I'll think of something, mom."  
«_I hope she never hears about that Landon girl._»

"You know what I expect to happen, Daria."

"Yes, mom."

"Ok. And don't stay up too long, Daria. Good night."

That said, Helen left her elder daughter alone again.

«_Crap. I so did not need that. Why does she only care for the things I hate or I'm bad at?_»


	9. Chapter 9 Threat

**Size does matter - Chapter 9**

**by HawkingRadiation**

Story (c) 2008 by HawkingRadiation (aka BlackHole at PPMB, SFMB)  
Daria and associated characters are (c) 2008 MTV Networks

* * *

**Threat**

"Quinn?" Daria addressed her sister, who was more or less sleepwalking some steps behind her through the park towards LHS. She wasn't a morning person; neither was Daria, but Daria had developed a taste for coffee rather early. That gave her a head start over Quinn.

"Hmm?"

"You've been hanging around with some girl, brownish wavey hair, dainty figure, about that size, 'hip' clothes?" Daria asked her sister, indicating the height in question with her hand.

With the limited interaction Quinn had had with her peers, matching that rather coarse description was not difficult. No braids, not Asian...

"Uhm, yeah, that could be Sandi." Quinn wondered how Daria knew what people she was 'hanging out' with - and why she would care.

"I think she's Convertible Girl."

It took Quinn a second to get what her sister meant, but then she started to snicker. "Yeah, I bet she's flexible like a folding top. But that doesn't make you a super hero outside..."

Daria rolled her eyes at Quinn's vivid imagination.  
"I meant she looked like the girl who made a pass at me before I even reached school last Tuesday; about exactly a week ago. She was driving a car, a convertible."

"Daria, Sandi's a freshman."

"Ah. Right. Well, then not."

They continued their way to school and Quinn recalled first meeting the three girls of the Fashion Club. The rude words Sandi had used referring to Daria were still present in her mind. Quinn started to snicker again. She imagined Sandi making a pass at Daria in her adorable style and Daria giving the cold shoulder, and likely some choice words.  
"I'll try to find out about the car. If she really is 'Convertible Girl', you just made my day."

Quinn still had a wide grin plastered to her face as the sisters reached the school grounds. Daria did not dare to ask for the reason.

* * *

Jane was as late as permissable for homeroom again. She spotted Daria sitting in her usual place and felt comfortable to show a tiny gesture of greeting in passing. Their little talk the day before had left her with the impression that Daria was a person worth knowing better, and the fact that she acknowledged the gesture indicated that Daria was willing to get to know the loser art chick that Jane was to her other class mates.

History was uneventful since Jane was used to Mr. DeMartino. Even in their sophomore year, some of her classmates had still not figured out how to give at least a half-assed answer to his questions. A stellar example was Kevin, who managed to condense 200 years of American history into two facts and three movies.

Between history and math Jane had to make a pit stop at her locker and had hence no opportunity to talk to Daria again. No one talked to her, and she spoke to no one. This was basically a convenient arrangement for Jane, as it allowed her to observe her surroundings with little interaction. Thorough observation in an objective manner was the key to art. Only if one saw the things the way they really were, one was able to capture their real essence.

Jane had never been a people person. Not that she had problems interacting with other people, it was groups of people that gave her grief. To climb in the pecking order people would do everything. And Jane really hated to be lied to or played, so she stayed outside the partial order that established itself at school.

* * *

Quinn spotted Stacy and the other girls of the Fashion Club in the hallway on her way to their combined history class. Catching up with them, she started a conversation.  
"Hi Stacy, Sandi, Tiffany!"

Stacy gave a little wave, Tiffany gave something akin to a nod while Sandi took the lead.  
"Hel-lo Qu-winn. You were rather late this morning and left home room in such an unpopular hurry."

"I was running a little late this morning, and had to stop by my locker before heading off to my French class, so I was a little short on time."

Quinn had been thinking about what to do with the information her sister had provided. Immediately running into the Fashion Club was a bad idea, so she had stalled herself with a walk around the parking lot after arriving at the school grounds. That had given her some time to think. Sandi's voice interrupted her thoughts.

"The Fashion Club meets every morning to discuss the current affairs of fashion, evaluate the color coordination of its individual members and schedule the further activities of the day. Absence during this meeting is not permissable for any member. But then, this doesn't affect **you**."

"You guys' dedication to the matters of fashion is really to be admired."

"Like, today, we've scheduled our next trip to the mall to sample the new line of cosmetics due to arrive on Thursday. **I** would have invited you, but I guess you'll be indisposed because of your sweaty time."

Stacy and Tiffany gave a slight 'EW' and Quinn saw an opportunity to tease some information out of Sandi.

"Yeah, but mom won't let me skip out of that. How are you guys getting there, by the way? It's a pretty long walk from school. Don't tell me by bus?"

"Are you suggesting I could be riding the bus anywhere, Quinn? Of course not the bus!" Sandi answered with a tone that indicated serious disapproval.

"Don't worry Sandi, I thought exactly so. So who's driving you?" Quinn smiled back in a disarming way.

"We are of course riding in **my** car."

«'_My car' equals she's got one and she drives. Maybe I can get even more..._»  
"Your own car, that's so very convenient, Sandi."

"Not that you would know."

Stacy watched with morbid fascination how Sandi tore into Quinn while Quinn evaded her attacks with the grace of a Shaolin monk. She looked at Tiffany, who was rather disturbed by Sandi's recent behaviour.

"You're right, I haven't ridden in your car so far." Quinn angled for more information.

"Gee, Quinn, I would never offer you a ride in my **convertible**, since with your size you wouldn't even get cover behind the windshield. No way I would risk you getting convertible hair."

«_Bingo. Nice to meet you, Convertible Girl._»  
Quinn had now a hard time keeping a straight face, but she had to. Her knowing about Sandi's mishap had to be kept under wrap. Either to settle in peace with Sandi - or ...  
"That's so caring of you, Sandi."

"As president of the Fashion Club it is my duty to prevent all sorts of fashion accidents."

Stacy used the ensuing pause to nudge the conversation to a new topic.  
"You really have to check that new cosmetics line later, Quinn. Waif gave it an excellent review. And no animal testing!"

Quinn joined in on the topic halfheartedly. Her contact with professional grade cosmetics had given her a new view on consumer products. Considering its price, its quality was a joke. You could do much better for less money - but didn't get a hip brand name.

* * *

Charles Ruttheimer III's life at school had undergone some dramatic changes. He was still able to look at the fairer gender, but anything beyond that had become suicidal. Given, not all of the ladies at LHS had welcomed his attention, but a real man just had to pay his respects to the greatest achievement of evolution: women.

That had changed just a week ago. Charles observed Daria from afar. She shared most of his classes, and always sat behind him or next to him. He wasn't exactly sure why that elaborate plan was set into motion, but there was no doubt the he was the target. Ms. Barch had it in for everything male and gave him an evil eye ever since his freshman year.

* * *

After she shooed the sophomore girls from the showers into their lunch break, Ms. Morris dropped in on Coach Gibson on her way to the teachers' lounge.

"Hey Gibson, you've met Daria?"

"The Shemale? Yeah, she had the gall to show up to the training Monday morning."

Ms. Morris laughed at his choice of words.  
"Well, it's open training. And rest assured, she's female all over."

Coach Gibson snorted.  
"Right. But the team's using the gym in the mornings."

"I doubt she gave you any trouble."

"She didn't, but there was only one other student to train on Monday."

"Hm? Gym's about weights, not people. How does that relate?"

"She's a girl, and not on the team to begin with."

«_Now she's a girl..._»  
"Right, but no doubt she can do weights."

"She'll disturb the team's training."

Ms. Morris did not like the way this was going. The implementation of her idea to placate Ms. Li could turn out more complicated than she expected.  
"How so? What does she do different than everyone else?"

"I told you, she's a girl and not on the team. She'll disturb the boys. Can't you get her to go to your girly time?"

Ms. Morris was not pleased with his derogatory answer, but kept her tongue in check. Fighting him would not solve her problem.  
"Gibson, did her workout look girly in any way to you?"

"But... Damn, you know what I mean."

"Yes. But it's her choice. You know, trying to keep her out of the open hours would cause a hell of a stink."

"Hrmpf. Crap PCness everywhere. Well, maybe she'll notice on her own that she's out of place."

«_And maybe you'll notice that your POV is from the sixties. 1860s._»  
"Maybe, but it must be her decision. You don't want to experience Li's wrath after the Sun-Herald had 'Sexism at LHS' headlines, do you?"

"Hell, of course not!"

"Keep that in mind. So we'll just have to go with the flow. I'm off to lunch now. Later."

That said, Ms. Morris left the gym. "Damn prejudices." she muttered to herself.

* * *

Sandi steered the Fashion Club's conversation during lunch suddenly into a direction Quinn was not expecting by any means.

"Any idea what the perv is up to?"

"No, Sandi. Upchuck hasn't even leered at me for about a week. And I haven't heard of any other incidents either."

"Neiiiither have Iiii."

That immediately got Quinn's attention, but left her a little confused.  
"Upchuck? Perv? Leered?"

Stacy offered an explanation. "The school pervert. We have been at LHS barely three weeks, but you get that really fast. He hits on anything remotely looking female."

"... incluuuding sheeeep ..."

Stacy stopped to glance at Tiffany for her unusual comment, so Sandi continued. There were things that even she would not wish upon her enemy.

"A complete sleaze, ugly as the night, totally uncool, and highly unpopular. Notorious, clever, and presumably rich though. Makes you want to throw up, hence his nickname 'Upchuck'."

"Sophomore. Reallly creeepy." Tiffany said and shuddered.

"They say he knows how to use a camera. And how to hide it." Stacy remembered the things the junior cheerleaders had talked about.

"I can hardly believe that he's that bad and still out of jail."

"Heed our warning or not, that's up to you. Go on, try to talk some manners into that leech. You can't miss him, he's a red head. Like **you**." Sandi quipped.

"I don't think I'd like to be exposed to that disturbed low-life, Sandi. That requires the attention of someone with more experience with helping people."  
«_Like the insolent bitch of a president of the oh-so-helpful Fashion Club!_»

Whether Sandi got Quinn's subtle insult or not was not visible on her outside. Quinn assumed the latter and decided to end things here.

"At leeeast he staaaayed cleeeear of us for a weeek."

"Yeah, thank heavens, Tiffany!" Stacy chimed in. Tiffany's unusual strong opinion on that matter made her wonder what had happened between the two.

Stacy retold some of the stories she had heard from older girls about that person. Even if most things were exaggerated, Quinn wondered how he had managed to stay in school - or out of jail to start with. Daria was a sophomore as he allegedly was. Maybe she knew more.

* * *

"Did you notice? That Quinn girl hasn't been hit on by Upchuck. She doesn't even meet his standards. Pathetic."

"Uhm, Sandi, didn't Quinn happen to arrive around the time when he stopped hitting on any girls?"

"You're right, Stacy. Maybe she seems so repulsive to him that he lost interest in girls all together. Poor guy."

"Sheee should get a meeedal, then."

Sandi glared at Tiffany. This turn of the conversation was not what she had intended.

Stacy could not deny a possible connection between Upchuck's improved manners and Quinn's arrival at LHS. But she seriously doubted that the reason was the kind Sandi suggested. Maybe... Daria! Likely Upchuck had hit on Daria - and she had hit in return. No, according to the stories that was not sufficient to stop that sleazeball.

* * *

After PE, Jane and Daria ended up changing at the same benches as they did the week before. This time, however, Jane did not hide around the corner but gave Daria a friendly greeting. To Jane's surprise, Daria started a conversation.

"How do you manage to be sent running laps every gym class? That's not exactly a punishment for you."

"The feud between Ms. Morris and the Lanes is legend. This arrangement is our version of a cease fire."

"'The Lanes'?" Jane saw that Daria continued to undress herself while she spoke, so she did as well.

"I'm the youngest of five. All my siblings have graced the halls of Lawndale High."

The sarcasm did not pass by Daria.  
"Right. And the cease fire?"

"I come in a little or do something else and get sent off to run laps. I do a sport I like, stay out of Morris' hair, and she saves face. Everyone wins." Jane shrugged.

"Sweet deal. Getting out of that contortions..."

"Not your kind of thing, either?"

Daria stopped, faced Jane - now butt naked - , and spread her arms a little. "Do I look anything like a prospective cheerleader?"

Jane was again taken a little aback by Daria's open display, but didn't fail to notice the short pause Daria had made as she likely censored herself.  
«_At least you've enough shame not to go through a routine for 'demonstration purposes'._»  
"No. But you don't look like a couch potato either."

"Let's hit the showers." Daria changed the topic while rolling her eyes.

The girl joined the stream of bodies heading for the showers. Jane headed towards one of the unoccupied shower heads as Daria spoke up.

"Unless you want your own share of lesbian rumors you'd better stay clear of me."

That said, Daria steered to another showerhead — at the opposite end of the shower room from the one Jane had just activated.

* * *

Jane was confused. One moment Daria had a conversation with her, the next she ended it as abruptly as she began it. Thinking about this odd behaviour, Jane got herself ready for the lunch break. In her musing Jane failed to notice the irked glances some of the girls around her shot at her while dressing. They were very carefull to make sure that they were always as covered as possible. But as most of the time, a rumor started without anyone noticing.

Daria had managed to shower and dress much quicker than Jane had and was likely already in line for her lunch. Jane had spotted her sitting at the silent table several times the last week. Jane would have preferred to sit there as well, but it was too far away from the food counter. The food was far from good, but it was plenty and one warm meal a day that Jane could count on. Immediately after PE, she might even go for thirds today.

* * *

"So this is what made Ernest Hemingway immortal." Mr O'Neill concluded his monologue on 'The Old Man and the Sea' just before the bell ended the class.

"Or all the alcohol simply preserved his corpse really well." Daria mumbled to herself, but loud enough to send some of the students packing their bags around her snickering.

"Class! Please remember to read the first story from 'In Our Time' for the next lesson!" Mr. O'Neill tried to repeat the homework, but with the class busy leaving that was forlorn hope.

"If you'd said that in your time they might have heard that. Heard. Not understood, not remembered." Jane heard Daria comment while she was leaving the class room. From the way Mr. O'Neill winced, he had gotten the comment as well.

Jane walked up to Daria and tried to talk to her again.  
"Conversation with your alter ego?"

"No, we're not on speaking terms anymore."

"She made moves on your boyfriend?"

"No, read my diary."

"Bitch."

Daria looked at Jane and saw her grin.  
"She can't read Latin, though."

"Soo, you're talking to yourself. First sign of madness, they say."

"At least **I** am talking to someone who listens - and understands."

Jane had no idea who Daria was referring to. «_The 'at least' part is O'Neill. But the rest?_»  
The girls walked in silence to the computing lab for their next class.

* * *

Grinning, Mack left the class room accompanied by his girlfriend Jodie, who spoke up in an irritated voice.  
"You heard that, Mack? That was low."

"But true and funny."

"It was still mean to say it in a way that Mr O'Neill could overhear it."

"I don't think that was planned, Jodie."

"Still, she shouldn't say such things."

"What's the problem, Jodie? O'Neill is an adult and a teacher to begin with. He should to be able to take a joke."  
«_Or at least that's what one would expect._»

"He's sensitive when it comes to his teaching qualification. I think that is really bad conduct."

«_Maybe O'Neill should work on not providing an opportunity for such comments._»  
"Give her some leeway. Daria's been here for just a week, she can't know everyone's quirks."

"I think Daria has a mean streak. And would you mind telling me why you are defending her?!"

Mack was taken by surprise by the resentment carried in Jodie's voice.  
"I'm not defending her. I don't know her and give her the benefit of doubt until I do. That's seems the normal thing to do to me."

Jodie didn't answer immediately, but her gestures made obvious that she accepted Mack's line of reason - for now.

* * *

"This class meets the criteria for 'torture' as defined by the Geneva Convention."

Jane looked up from packing her backpack. It was Daria who addressed her.

"Yes, but we're labeled unlawful combatants so the GC won't apply to us."

"I wonder where I heard that before..."

"No idea." Jane shrugged with a grin, and Daria displayed a tiny grin of her own.

"So. What did you do to get convicted?"

"Said the wrong thing at the wrong time to the wrong person."

"Pissing off a teacher got you in here?"

"Worse. Pissed of the school psychologist. You?"  
«_Transferred in two weeks after the year started? 10:1 on mouthing off at a teacher, 5:2 on PDA - the good kind, 1:3 on PDA - the bad kind._»

"About the same."

«_Damn, that says about nothing._» "Oh joy. This could take some time. This is my seventh cycle."

"You're kidding?! The exam can't be that difficult!"

"I could pass the test, but I like having low self-esteem. It makes me feel special."

Daria gave Jane a look of disbelief, so she continued.

"Ok, ok, not really. You knew that you're getting reevaluated by the shrink after the test - and she gets the final say?"

Daria's groan made it clear to Jane that she had lost the bet with herself. The girls split up for the day. Daria excused herself to her locker while Jane was eager to get home. Some weird web sites she had spotted during her clandestine surfing in the computing class had triggered her muse.

* * *

"Thanks for taking me to the library, Dad." Daria said as she and her father entered the Morgendorffer home. She had acquired a new library card and immediately borrowed some psych books that might give her a head start at testing out of the accursed self esteem class.

"No problem, kiddo. And your driving is improving by the day. You'll be ready for the driving test in no time!"

«_Kiddo my ass._»  
"Yes, but I need to be past my birthday. Looking older doesn't count."

"That's just five weeks away. With a little more practice passing the exam is going to be a breeze."

"I'm not that confident 'bout that, dad. I feel I need much more practice."

After shedding their shoes and jackets both Morgendorffers now entered the kitchen.

"We'll see to that, Daria."

"Please dad. I don't think I'll be able to handle mom's house on wheels."  
«_Or mom._»

Daria washed her hands while her father looked into a wall cabinet.

"I told you: I'll see to that. Simple dinner today? Spaghetti?"

"You do the carbonara part, I do the salad. Will mom be home soon?"  
Daria immediately went to work and readied the required utensils.

"Unless there's another unexpected meeting, yes."

Quinn dropped into the kitchen a little later to see what was for dinner but didn't stick around. On her way back to her room she smiled on the efficiency that her father and her sister displayed in the kitchen if they weren't arguing.

Helen came home only a little later than planned, and Daria started the pasta as she came in. Dinner was a quiet affair, as Quinn was busy musing what to do with the possible school pervert. She had met rude boys before, but none had been seriously labeled a pervert. The stories the other girls had told her were scary - even if only a small percentage of them was true. Right now, she needed more information.

* * *

"Quinn?"

Quinn turned around on the easy chair she sat in listening to some music on her stereo and found her sister standing in the half-opened doorway. This could be an opportunity to question Daria a little.  
"What's the matter?"

"The bathroom. It looks like a bomb went off in there."

Quinn suddenly had a very good idea where the conversation was going and tried to placate her sister.  
"Naa, it can't be that bad. Things were alright this morning when I used it and you know my stance on the importance of organizing one's make-up."

«_Quinn, reality check!_»  
"That's the problem. You haven't put your things away afterwards. Your stuff is cluttered everywhere. You did your toenails, didn't you? I'm afraid to step on some bottle of nailpolish or whatever."

Quinn had to admit that Daria was right. She was running out of time this morning and had hightailed out of the bathroom to make it to school in time. And cleaning up was something with a low priority for her anyway. Even slight manual labour was not for her. However, her next answer was her first mistake.  
"Then just pick it up and put it on my shelf."

"Quinn. It's your clutter. You're in charge of the bathroom anyway - it's an odd week after all."  
Daria was clearly displeased. They shared the little chores their parents made them do and Daria did not mind whatever state her sister's room was in. It was her room, after all. Daria was no neat freak, but the current chaos in their shared bathroom was beyond tolerable. But what nagged her most was that Quinn tried to weasel out of her chores again - and she would end up doing them during her week as well.

"Ah, I don't feel like doing that right now. Just pick up whatever bugs you most and I'll do the proper cleaning during the weekend."

"Quinn, do you really expect me to believe that?"

Automatically and without any further thought Quinn made her patented 'I'm a cute helpless puppy and can't do a thing' move that triggered the protection instincts in males and the mother instinct in females.  
"Pretty please?"  
This allowed her to get out of almost any unpleasant job or situation. Then Quinn noticed the gleam in her sister's eyes who had now repidly entered the room.  
«_Oh shit! I forgot! And with her current state..._»

Quinn's attempt to get out of the easy chair was stopped by Daria's hand on her shoulder, who shoved her back down gently, but insiting. Daria had come up behind the easy chair and was severely invading her private space, with just the backrest separating the siblings. Daria began to stroke Quinn's hair with her other hand, fixating Quinn's head to her tummy.

Quinn had suddenly a very good idea of the things to come...

* * *

In her memories Quinn could replay the scenes in a lucidity as if they had happened just yesterday. It had been a little over three years ago, and the hormone shots Daria was getting were working at full throttle. Quinn had been green with envy, watching Daria grow taller than her and developing a figure that she knew was tremendously exquisite. With Daria now being the cuter one of the sisters, Quinn had had to resort to all her charming abilities to stay in the center of attention, perfecting her 'I'm a cute puppy'-routine.

Quinn had known at that time that only the fact that Daria had no idea how to play her cuteness to her advantage gave herself the slightest chance to succeed. Of course Quinn had tried her moves on Daria as well, who had simply not been responsive. But Quinn had seen that as a challenge, and hence tried again and again and again, much to Daria's annoyance.

"Quinn, if you don't want me to treat you like you're my puppy you cut the crap. I'm **not** your servant." she had finally said. Obviously, Quinn had not heeded those words at that time.

Two days later, sitting on the sofa in front of the TV, Quinn had been trying to get Daria to get her a soda using a new variation of her routine. With a "My cute puppy!" Daria had been all over her in an instant, pinning her down to the sofa and grappling her.

Being taller and a tad heavier at that time, Daria's maneuver ensured that Quinn would not be going anywhere. The sudden, intimate bodily contact with her usually rather stand-offish sister had been scary right on its own. But the wicked grin on her close-up face had given Quinn the chills.

"I'll give you 'puppy', Quinn."  
Daria said in a low voice before she started to lap on Quinn's cheek, still pinning her to the sofa. Even if Daria hadn't kept Quinn grappled, she would have been too grossed out to fight back.

"What are my girls doing?" Jake had asked, looking into the room to investigate the ruckus. Quinn immediately had gotten her hopes up that her daddy would make Daria stop, but she hadn't taken Daria's wit into account.

Her "We're playing puppies, daddy!" had successfully distracted Jake, who had left the room to get Helen with a "Look how cute, our daughters are bonding!", destroying Quinn's hope entirely.

After five minutes (and two photos) as chew toy of a very thorough Daria, Quinn had learned that being Daria's puppy would be a fate worse than dead. She had never tried to get Daria to do things for her that way again. Luckily, Daria made a difference whether Quinn did try to push additional work towards her sister, or just trying to get out of something in general. She just ignored her efforts in the latter cases, as Quinn found out over the years.

* * *

Seconds passed and Quinn could hear Daria breath and feel her warmth. She squirmed a little in her seat trying to get away, but did not but any real effort into. She wouldn't be getting anywhere unless Daria wanted her to and had no intention to encourage Daria any further.

Quinn kept her eyes closed, expecting a thorough licking. With lots of tongue.

Daria stood close to her sister and looked at her surprisingly uncomfortable face via one of the mirrors in Quinn's room. She spoke in a low voice to her sister.  
"Quinn, grow up. You need to do your share of the chores."

Quinn felt her sister loosen her hold on her a little and opened her eyes, surprised that Daria did not repeat the performance of years ago. While her mind understood that Daria did have a point, her entire being resented the idea of additional responsibility.  
"C'mon, Daria. This can wait 'til tomorrow."

"I don't care about the full hamper or a stained washbasin, but I'll be leaving early tomorrow. I want the nailpolish claymores gone by then."

"Daria, you're better at cleaning, anyway. Just shove them aside."  
Quinn felt Daria's grip tighten again while she spoke.

"Yeah, right, and this is why you need more training."

"Da-ri-aaa! Not today." Quinn whined.

"Way today, Quinn."

Quinn decided to try another approach.  
"Trade you for next week? Please?"

"Get real, Quinn. Fool me once..."

"C'mon, Daria, you know I m good for my word. Deal?"

"No, not when it come to chores."

"I am!"

"Not. Do you want the list sorted by alphabet orby date?"

"Please?"

"No. Only with payment in advance. You do your own chores this week."

"No-oo." Quinn dug her heels in and shot her sister a defiant look via the mirror - even in face of the possible consequences.

"Your call. You know what's going to happen should dad or **mom** see the pigsty."

"If they do." Quinn smirked. That was rather unlikely.

"Just don't expect any favors from me very soon if I am do to your share as well. Like getting rides from me once I got my licence."

Quinn's eyes widened a little. "You wouldn't!"

"Time will tell."

"Mom's not going to give me any rides once you've got your licence! You can't do that! That's, like, imprisonment!"

"Doing your chores is your call, giving you rides is my call. You may ask mom, or dad, or just take the bus."

Quinn pouted and could not come up with any reasonable retort. Her parents were going to be more than reluctant to give her rides once Daria was allowed to drive ("Daria needs to practice.", "No time, ask your sister!"), and Quinn loathed riding the bus.

Daria turned her sister's head and leaned down a little to be able to look directly into her eyes. "Listen Quinn. I'll go to bed in about an hour, and I'd prefer the bathroom to be safe by that time."

Quinn just nodded, unsure of Daria's next action. But to her relief, Daria released her and left her room without another word. Daria had no mischief on her mind at all. This time.  
«_You don't have any idea what impression you give when you act like this, do you?_»

Quinn was smart enough to stall the attempt to extract information from her sister about said Upchuck to a later moment.

* * *

"...and that new woman had the gall to ask who I was. I was on TV every day, I'm running the Lawndale Business Women Association, and she didn't know me. Where does she life, on the dark side of the moon?"

"That's sad, Linda, but maybe she..."

"Tom, you don't know what it means to be in my position." Linda Griffin interrupted her husband. "Chris! Stop playing with the peas! Sandi, can't you take at least a little responsibility for your brother?"

"Yes, mother. Chris!"

Indeed, Sandi's younger brother stopped flipping peas across the table towards his brother Sam who wasn't all innocent either. Shielded by Sandi from his mother's gaze, Sam now refocussed his efforts on his sister.

"Sam. You too!"

"Sandi, why are you bossing your brother around?"

"Mother, he was flipping peas as well."

"Don't try to deceive me Sandi, I haven't seen a thing."

With his mother backing him, Sam played the situation to its fullest.  
"You're mean!"

"Right, and before this goes any further: Boys, finish your meal. Including the vegitables! Sandi, since you're done start cleaning up the kitchen. That will give you some time to think about your actions. Your father will join you once we're done with the meal."

"But mother, I didn't..."

"Sandi, do as you're told to. And start by brewing an espresso. I need a coffee after the meal."

With a "Yes, mother." Sandi headed thoroughly beaten off to the kitchen. Whoever had irked her mother during her day had made Sandi's life a living hell. Sandi started the espresso («_Yuckie poison! You asked for it, don't blame your wrinkles and crow feet on me!_») and lookedfor the rubber gloves to protect her carefully manicured hands from the chemical warfare in the kitchen.

«_At least you have your own Morgendoffer making your life difficult, old hag._»

* * *

Quinn carefully opened the door to her sister's weird room a bit. She spotted Daria sitting at her desk, writing, but Daria had already noticed the door and was turning around.  
"Daria?"

"Yes, Quinn?"

Sweet talking would not do any good. And Quinn hadn't done the bathroom yet. There was no turning back anymore.  
"Uhm, do you know anything about a guy, a sophomore, red hair and about that size?"

Her sister asking about a boy was always suspicious, but once she had matched the description to a person she knew no hormones whatsoever were involved.  
"Guess so. There's one guy I share several classes with who fits that description."

"Ah, and what's your impression of him?"

Now Daria got really suspicious. "He breathes."

"Da-ri-aa..." Quinn rolled her eyes.

"Hasn't peed on my leg."

"**Eww**. **EWWWW** Daria, don't even think about that!" Quinn shuddered, but more than Daria had her suspected to. Something was off.

"Sooo, what's your interest in him? And what is my incentive to tell you, sis?"

"Well, I've heard some rumors about him..."

"And I've heard some rumors about you and you've heard some rumors about me. So what?"

"More like, facts. At least they're consistent."

"Get to the point, please."

It was time for Quinn to play quid pro quo with her sister.  
"They say he's slimy. The school perv."

Daria chuckled, but now understood what was worrying Quinn.  
"School perv? Him? I haven't seen him **not** looking haunted."

"You sure?"

"From what I've seen in class he seems smart but shy. Doesn't say a thing about the amount of granny porn he might stack at home." Daria grinned.

"**EWWW**. Daria, you're soooo gross."

"By the way, I haven't seen **your** porn during the move. Where did you hide your collection?" Daria asked in order to make her sister leave. She had more writing to be done. The 'self-esteem' class was seriously gnawing at her writing time.

Quinn's only reply to her sister's teasing was just a stuck out tongue, but she didn't leave.

"What else, Quinn?" Daria asked with a slightly annoyed tone in her voice.

"You've heard rumors about me? What kind?"

"The usual pointless rumor kind." was Daria's simple, almost rude answer. She knew Quinn was by no means easy. Unfortunately, she was currently not easy to get rid of as well.

Daria's tone told Quinn that she wouldn't get any further information from her sister. But she also knew that she didn't need any further information. If those rumors could form a real problem in any way, Daria would not hold them to herself.

Quinn shortly considered to share the rumors she had heard about Daria with her sister. But they weren't really that interesting. They mostly exposed that some people had a really vivid imagination. Quinn didn't dare to think about the things that those people might be thinking without voicing them.

"Quinn, are we done here? Don't you have any homework to do? Or a bathroom to clean? I'd like get back to my writing."

Daria's voice shook Quinn out of her musings.  
"Ah, sorry, yes, that's it. Night Daria."

Quinn heard Daria's "Good night." just before she closed the door, but her mind was busy with the sparse information Daria had provided. If they had been talking about the same person, the information did not match up at all. Something was odd, but at least Daria did not see any problem.

* * *

"...so I think I'll be able to free up Friday night after eight. But I need to be back home by nine thirty. Mom and Dad are attending some conference Saturday and need me to take care of Evan. That means getting up by 6."

"_Crap! Damn! And I can't keep you company, I'm working double shift all Saturday and there's no chance anyone'll switch with me!_"

"Ah, crap. But a good idea Mack, that would have been lovely. Even with Evan and Rachel around."

"_A full day ... we're really out of luck right now._"

"Yeah, tell me about it." Jodie sighed into the telephone, generating an interruption in the conversation between her and Michael. Michael was the next to speak, and decided to bring up a topic he had successfully avoided so far. But it was necessary to bring it up.

"_Jodie, I, ... there's something I need to ask..._" Mack drew a breath. "_Why did you snap at me today? About Daria?_"

"Oh. Sorry. That wasn't about you. It's just..."

"_I know, Jodie, but... what happened between the two of you? It's just not like you to lash out at someone that way. She didn't do anything to you, did she?_"

"Ah, no, she didn't. At least not directly or on purpose."

"_But?_" Mack's uneasiness was palpable.

"Look, I was in the office last week and happened to get a glance at her student record. Flawless. As in 4.0 GPA. You know what that means?"

"_She's smart, but I got that already from class._"

"That. And if I'm to be the valedictorian - as my parents expect me to - I'll now have to pay even more attention to my school work. She's real competition."

"_C'mon, with your extra curriculars and a flawless disciplinary record there can't be any competition. Or are you planning to take a walk on the wild side?_" Mack asked, relieved and with a slightly suggestive tone in his voice. He decided not to mention that he was expecting her to show up to the open gym the next morning.

"Hee, I really wish I could afford that. No, her record is as flawless as mine. I couldn't believe that myself, but it's a fact."

Mack was a little surprised at that answer and filed the information away for later use. Jodie's word was good beyond doubt.  
"_So her being a proper student causes problems._"

"Yes. For me it does."

"_That's plain sick._"

Jodie's immediate answer was just a sigh.  
"Look Mack, there's nothing we can do about that right now. I'll try not to let it get to me too much, but..."

"_That's the best we can do right now. I have to end, Jodie. You know I've got to get up an hour early tomorrow. Ignore this for now and have a good night._"

"Good night, Mack. Love you."

"_Love you too._" «_Even if you hardly give me any opportunity to act on it._»


	10. Chapter 10 Baptism

**Size does matter - Chapter 10**

**by HawkingRadiation  
**

Story (c)2008 by HawkingRadiation (aka BlackHole at PPMB, SFMB)  
Daria and associated characters are (c) 2008 MTV Networks

* * *

Baptism

Daria jogged through the gates of LHS, sure that she would be paying the price later on. Her feet were just not used to running in boots anymore. She was already dressed in her gym clothes with an added sweater and sweat pants, with a change of clothes in her back pack.  
«_No way I'm going to put my boots in there._»

Today she had left the Morgendorffer home without any human contact, which suited her well. She had informed her parents during dinner the day before - and put a note to the fridge door for the likely case they forgot. Quinn had indeed taken some time the evening before and cleaned the bathroom.  
«_If she'd just grow up a little and skip the fuss._»

Running to school had the perk of arriving warmed up - freeing time for serious training. So Daria breezed through dimly illuminated hallways and took under a minute in the locker room. When she entered the gym, she found it as empty as on Monday and immediately started her regime.

* * *

"Mackenzie. I need to have a word with you."

Mack had been tying his shoelaces as Coach Gibson's voice cut through the locker room's silence. Being early gave him some quiet time in the gym to get some training done before he had to start herding the morons. The Coach's usual involvement was limited to unlocking the gym and switching on the lights.

"Coach?"

"There's a ... problem."

"Something's broken again?"

"No, this is ... different."

"Umm, yes?"

"That girl. She had the gall to show up again."

"I guess you're talking about Daria?"  
«_Here we go..._»

"Might be her name. That gal's got some chutzpa, naggin' into the team's training time. But as much as I'd like to tell her leave, that'd really sit bad with Li."

Mack bowed down to tie his shoes again, partly to hide his smirk from the coach.

"Well, it's designated as 'open training' after all. She isn't causing any trouble?"

"Not beside being here and distracting the team."

"The cheerleaders at the sidelines during a game are for sure more distracting. And if the guys are distracted by her training, they really need to improve their focus."

"Mackenzie, you may be the Captain but you've still a lot to learn about managing a **team**. She's an outsider and she is a girl. She will distract the guys and she'd better stay away!"

Mack finished his shoe laces and stood up again. He shrugged. "Coach, I don't see any way to make her leave."  
«_And no real reason why._»

"There isn't any. I guess the group pressure will do its job. However..."  
Coach Gibson just made some helpless gestures. Some thoughts better stayed unvoiced at LHS.

"Yes?"

"Look, just make sure nobody does anything **really** stupid."

"Sure thing." Mack said and walked straight to the gym. His time was wasting.  
«_That's what I always do._»

* * *

Mack entered the gym and immediately spotted Daria at the free weights. He took a moment to watch her go through her exercise, and barely kept himself from whistling - just at the amount of iron she was moving. Suppressing that reflex reminded himself not to stare.  
"Hey Daria. Morning."

Daria stopped and turned to see who had addressed her.  
"Morning Mack."

Mack walked over to the treadmill and started to warm up. This gave him the opportunity to muster her via a mirror on the far wall. He tried to extract some more information from Daria.  
"You're already warmed up? When did you get here?"

"I ran to school." Daria's answer came late, between two sets. Mack didn't mind, but the fact told him that she was serious about the training.

"Smart."  
Mack continued to warm up and watched Daria move on to one of the machines and adjust the weights.  
«_Damn. If I was a cartoon character, my eyes would now pop out two inches. That's serious business she's doing there._»

Silence filled the gym again while Daria and Mack went through their training. Both were serious enough to skip any unnecessary chitchat. Any of that could wait for another time. Daria changed her exercise twice during Mack's warm-up, involuntarily giving him a good impression of her abilities. Putting her gender aside, he was tempted to offer her a starting position on the team the very instant.

"Hey Captain. Up early again?" came from the gym's entrance. Another student had entered.

"Hi Jeffy. Gotta get things done." Mack answered, now warmed up, a little short of breath and ready for more. He used his towel to wipe off the sweat and offered Jeffy the treadmill.

"Hi." Jeffy greeted the third figure in the room that was integrated into one of the machines.

"Hey."

Daria's short but polite answer was not what he had expected. Sudden recognition sat in. With eyes wide as saucers Jeffy's "Oh shit!" vocalized his astonishment.

«_Man, are you subtle._»  
"Morgendorffer. Pleased to meet you, Mr O'Shit."

Mack stopped his exercises to see how this scene would play out. This could be a small scale example of the things to come.

On the treadmill sat an open mouthed Jeffy experiencing a temporary shutdown of all higher brain functions. Daria finished her set, walked over to Jeffy and held her hand out. With his head tilted back, Jeffy got a very good impression of how tall Daria really was.

"Mr. O'Shit, if you'd now shake my hand I could go back to my training. **I** am not here to sit on a treadmill all day."

Mack was pleasantly surprised how well Daria had handled the situation, giving it a comical quality at Jeffy's expense. Since he was utterly dumbfounded, Mack decided to give him a hand.  
"Jeffy. Jeffy! Shake Daria's hand."

"Uh? Um, right. Jeffy." he answered and shook Daria's hand.

"Daria."

With the protocol satisfied Daria proceeded to a machine, passing Mack, she spoke in a low voice "Jeffy O'Shit. His parents must hate him.". All Mack could do was grin.

* * *

The gym was the unchallenged domain of the football team, which came naturally with the team's coach being the supervisor. But the team was by no means intolerant. They already put up with some members of the swim team, the martial arts club, and some guys from the track and field team, but those showed up only during the winter months. Last but not least, there were a few unassociated people that frequented the gym.

But this was unprecedented. The latest newcomer was a girl. Everyone noticed, some sooner, some later.

After the fact had been established it obviously became the talk of the day, and the team's members found themselves in small groups between their exercises to have hushed discussions about the development at hand.

"Wow, dude. She's doing more than I am!"

"My kid brother is doing more than you, wimp."

"There should be a law against girls like her."

"Frightened that you can't keep up with her?"

"What is **it** doing here, for real?"

Mack decided that it was time to set some limits.  
"At least she's working her body, not her mouth. Shut up and get movin'."

* * *

"Yo, Mack Daddy. Look at that. That's, like, Daria!"

"Kevin, don't call me that! That's her, right." Mack shrugged.

"So, what's she doing here?"

"Kevin, what does it look like?"

Kavin scratched his head and gave a pathetic sight as he tried to think.  
"Hmm. Uhnn, she's doing stuff and things?"

Mack groaned.  
"Yeah, kind of. You'll figure out by yourself."  
He gave Kevin a slight smack on the shoulder, and returned to his own exercise.

As Kevin stood and thought, the background noise of the gym covered the rattling of the wheels turning in his head - slowly. The result was a, for Kevin, surprisingly profound solution. He walked over to the station Daria was busy at.  
"Yo, Daria, are you doing weight training?"

Mack sensed an upcoming problem, stopped, and followed Kevin. He sat down in hearing distance, ready to distract Kevin in case he started to do something seriously stupid. Since Daria had to stop her exercise, he was in time to overhear the entire conversation.

«_Look, it's Captain Obvious!_»  
"No Kevin, that's a religious ceremony. I'm worshipping the gods of gravitation."

"Cool!" Kevin said and started the mechanical processing of the new information. Mack had visibly a hard time not laughing out loud.

"Look, Kevin, I need to get back to the ritual, otherwise the gods will be angry at me and I'll face eternal damnation." Daria said after Kevin made no indication to continue the conversation, sadly pushing Kevin's thoughts onto another track.

"Are they powerful? More powerful than, say, Thor?"

Daria rolled her eyes. "They're holding us all to the ground. You, me, everyone. They rule the earth's path around the sun, entire galaxies bow to their will. Yes, I think they are really powerful."

"Wow. For real?"

«_I can't believe people that gullible exist._»  
"For real." Daria said, sounding totally convinced. Which she was, because she was not exactly lying. Nevertheless, keeping a straight face was getting harder by the minute.

"But why here?"

«_I better not start on sacrifices._»  
"Lifting heavy things is part of the ritual."

"But it's no church."

«_Kevin doesn't stand a chance!_» In the background Mack gave Daria signals to stop. He could barely hold his laughter, and it was going to be him who would have to set a disturbed Kevin straight again.

«_That was fun while it lasted._»  
"Right, but here are heavy things to lift around. Look, I need to continue the ritual. Eternal damnation and so on."

Daria went back to her training and started the set she had been doing all over again. Mack stared a little lost in thought into her general direction,and then returned to his own training.

* * *

"She does have some hips, if you take a closer look..."

"Dude, I'm afraid to even think about it. Some guys from the chess club are more feminine than her."

"The guys from chess club are for sure more docile and a better fit for a wimp like you."

"Speak for yourself. You could hide behind her."

"But look closely. It's not much, but it's all there."

"You're looking closely? If that's your type, go on, make a pass at her. You won't get any competition from me. More girls with real TnA for me."

"And between the two of you, I already know who's going to be on top."

Laughter filled the gym as nonsense, hormones, a limited imagination, and his need for recognition precipitated into an idea in Jamie's mind.  
"Guys, I've got an idea. You stay here and watch, and I'm gonna give you a show of the goods."

"Jamie, watch out. She ain't no dumbo. She has a way with words."

But Jeffy's warning got lost in the general noise of the gym. He considered giving Jamie another warning, but after he got his own share of embarrassment, he wouldn't deny Jamie his.  
«_I wonder how long I'll stay Jeffy O'Shit. At least to her._»

* * *

Mack stood at the perimeter of the corner where the team mates had gathered while training to eye the new arrival. He had a coarse idea what kind of stunt Jamie was going to try. Mentally, he ticked the list off.  
«_Silly: yes. Stupid: yes. Really stupid: No._»

So he decided to observe and postponed any interference to the case of trouble. What ever was going to happen, the situation would show if Daria stood any chance of ever being accepted into the gym.

* * *

"Uhm, 'scuse me, could you give me a hand here?" Jamie asked Daria who was heading towards the locker rooms. He pointed at the well laden barbell on the freeweights area's floor.

Daria stopped and took a quick look around. On the front the situation was simple. His last set had been too hard and he needed a hand. Looking behind the front, the entire team crowded into the corner that happened to be exactly in her back was more than suspicious. Daria shot Mack a glance. He stood arms akimbo beside his team mates, amusement visible on his face.

«'_Oopsie, I dropped something'-maneuver, inverted. Guys, grow up._»  
"Can't get it up?" Daria asked, looking down.

"No." he gestured with slightly tittering hands at his sweaty self. He had set the trap properly and had not spared himself.

"Can the steroids and try Viagra." Daria said loud enough to be heard in the entire gym, turned, and left the gym, leaving a seriously flabbergasted Jamie behind.

* * *

The snickering started while Daria was still in the room, but as soon as she left, it became a storm of laughter, especially after comprehension sat in on Jamie's side, and he started to blush madly. That hit had been below the belt, all the way, and with high precision.

* * *

After home room, Jane walked up to Daria who was approaching the locker row.  
"Hey Daria. You've managed to get in after me and didn't get a tardy slip from DeMartino. That's some feat."

Daria looked at Jane, gave a little wave and covered her mouth with one hand to answer around some bites of an apple.  
"'scuseme. Was in gym."

"Gym? Like, before school?"

Daria just nodded, still busy inhaling the apple.

"Getting up early? Deliberately? As a student? You're really depraved."

"Way depraved."  
Daria gave a little smirk, opened her locker, and started to exchange some plastic bags from her backpack.

* * *

Charles Ruttheimer III was stealthily waiting for his opportunity to access his locker without having to deal with her. This was highly inconvenient, since he had really to hurry to change books if he wanted to make it to class in time. Unpunctuality was one characteristic his father would not tolerate.

When he happened to catch the words "Way depraved.", spoken without the slightest hesitation and devoid of all emotions, his thoughts wandered off to a cataclysmic place where she subjected him to a way depraved treatment. Suddenly, the phrase 'hell on earth' gained a new dimension for Charles. As did the phrase 'hell is just around the corner'.

* * *

Mack changed his books and noticed an unmoving Ruttheimer standing all spaced out in the hallway. The next class was drawing close.  
"Charles. Charles! Upchuck!!"

"Ughn?" A familiar voice brought Charles back from his day dream turned nightmare. He started to remember that there had been some task that needed to be done immediately. He recognized Mack, one of the few people tolerant enough to bother with helping him.

"Next class's about to start, you better hurry."

"Right. Thanks, Mack." Charles answered and immediately proceeded to hectically swap books. Now he really had to hurry to make it in time.

Mack shook his head and headed off to his own class, mumbling to himself.  
"Damn, talk about hormone driven."

* * *

"So, you've really been training before school?"  
Jane saw some common ground, since she enjoyed physical exercise herself.

"Yup."

"You're one sick puppy."

"Puppy? Do you need glasses? Or a cane?"

"Saint Bernard." Jane said and grinned.

"More like a calf."

"Naa, you're too smart to be bovine."

"Maybe divine."

"Or grapevine."

"Oh, yeah. Got any spillover by now?"

"Spillover?"

"Talking to me will spring rumors about you."

«_That's what she meant yesterday!_»  
"Ah, not that I know of, but I don't follow the rumor circuit that closely."

"Take my word for it. You shouldn't fraternize with me if stuff like that bothers you."

"I'm the weird art chick anyway. There is no bad publicity for an artist."

The girls exchanged an amicable glance before they took their respective seats in their shared social science class. Daria was still not sure if she missed the life specimen she had met in Highland. They had been annoying, but who could resist the temptation to mess with their minds?

* * *

Before their mandatory History class, Quinn walked up to the Fashion Club. Sandi was speaking animatedly to Stacy and Tiffany, her annoyance clearly carried in her voice.

"...total impudence! I clearly hinted that I was offering one of them the opportunity to take me to the movies and not a single one steps forward!"

"I'm still waiting as well. But I really want to see that movie. They say it's totally romantic." Stacy gushed. She was a sucker for romantic movies that made her cry or feel tingly all over. She was adult enough to have given up the fantasy of a beautiful prince on a unicorn coming for her long ago. But there was still the option of a strong prince of darkness on a Harley...

"And haaass great costuuumes." Tiffany loved slow movies that gave you time to appreciate the visuals.

By now, Quinn had a very good idea what movie the Fashion Club was referring to, **the** current Hollywood romance featuring the hottest couple that ever graced the screen. A movie that Quinn had on her must-see list as well.  
"I'm sure it's simply that boys aren't the targeted audience, Sandi."  
«_No boy could possibly ever resist your lovely charm._»

"If 'not being in the targeted audience' stops them from asking me out, they're not worth it, Quinn. They need to make, like, some sacrifices for a girl **like me**."

"Iiit's just a mooovie."

"They're just not able to appreciate this kind of a movie, missing all the subtle thingies. There's a reason why girls are the fairer gender after all." Quinn explained her view on things to Tiffany and the other girls.

"If they'd show some serious dedication, they would realize a girl's needs!"

«_Maybe they realize your needs better than you do..._»  
"All the high school boys still need to be domesticated and conditioned, Sandi. So much more work to do for the Fashion Club."

Tiffany and Stacy murmured words of agreement as they had suddenly established another occupation for the Fashion Club: Teach not just the finer arts of dressing, but also of courting.

Sandi was not sure if that was encouragement or an insult, but Quinn did have a fair point in that - and her fellow club members agreed with Quinn. The boys at LHS did indeed need to be educated.  
«_You're a smart one. I give you that. But you won't outsmart me, beanpole._»

Quinn used the short moment of silence to contemplate the situation, and "Say, why don't we make it a girls' night? Let's go see the movie, just the four of us."

"Gee, Quinn, just because **you** can't get a date doesn't mean we, who can, should do without an escort. Or pay by ourselves."

«_I really need to see if your picture is in the Encyclopedia Britannica under "princess, stuck-up"._»  
"I'd rather see that movie without an escort. It's much more enjoyable that way."

"Speak for yourself, Quinn. I like to be valued."

"So do I. It's just that I can't enjoy a movie if I'm busy fighting off advances of a bored escort. Some people may enjoy 'em being all grabby — not me."

Stacy immediately saw the faint change in Sandi's complexion. Another quip at Quinn had fired back at Sandi herself and she was boiling with rage. Stacy feared a serious outbreak, and began to prattle, partly from panic, partly to divert Sandi's attention.  
"Ew, yes, that is really bad. I mean it's all nice if they focus their attention on you, but if they get totally bored and focus just on you it's like totally gross when they try to feel you up and you don't want to cause a scene..."

"Stacy! Are you implying that you're allowing boys to feel you up in the cinema?"

Stacy suddenly found herself in the hot seat.  
"No, Sandi, really never! It's just that I'm some times not fast enough to stop their advances in time, and it's really awful if you suddenly have a hand at soda temperature in inappropriate..."

Quinn came to her rescue.  
"Stacy, that is exactly what I had in mind. See, Sandi, if it were just us girls we could watch the show, grab some soda afterwards and discuss our impressions."  
«_I might even be able to bring Daria, just for you, Convertible Girl._»

"Waaatching a movie in quiiiieeeeet and peaaace sounds gooood."

"Going to a movie without a date is something that only **unpopular** girls would do! I as the president of the Fashion Club can not allow this endangerment to our social standing!"

"Or girls so popular that they arrive without a date and leave with one... " Quinn offered, well knowing that this was a challenge that Sandi could not ignore. Arm candy was nice, but not worth the fuss Sandi made about it.  
«_And? Are you confident enough?_»

Sandi shot quick looks at Stacy and Tiffany, who were obviously eager to see the movie without having to worry about overly enthusiastic suitors. She wasn't comfortable with conceding to Quinn, but knew she was out of options if she wanted to save face.

"I agree, the idea has its merits. Let us try and see the movie without escorts. This way we can establish what other males are around town that know to behave better than high school boys."

Stacy and Tiffany stopped the private conversation they had and nodded eagerly. Doing something beside shopping with just the girls was new and exciting. And going to the cinema to see a movie was a real change of pace.

"You are invited as well, Quinn."

«_You are too gracious, your highness._» "That is so nice of you, Sandi."

The girls took their seats and prepared to give the impression of participating in class. Mr DeMartino was no teacher to fool around with.

* * *

During class, Jane paid more attention to her classmates than usual, which wasn't too difficult starting with 'none at all'. Indeed, some of her female classmates did glance at her. That wouldn't have been suspicious, if they weren't trying in a panic to cover up in case they noted Jane noticing.

Daria had likely been right. She has either very good instincts, or experience, or a very good connection to the rumor mill. Jane was opting for the first, but wouldn't have bet on it. Making dreamy eyes at the looking girls amused Jane for the rest of the class. Jane hardly got a single word the teacher spoke, but hey, she was doing applied social science after all.

* * *

Between classes, Mack used an opportunity to catch up with Jodie. After some generic chitchat, the conversation picked up where the call had stopped the evening before.  
"Jodie, did you talk to Daria about the grades thing?"

"No. Why should I? That's a mess between me and my parents."

"Right, but maybe there is no competition you need to win. I don't want to see you work yourself to death."

Jodie snuggled, aeh, walked a little closer to her boyfriend. No words were required. His way to care for her felt so good. She used the moments to contemplate this new viewpoint.  
"That's much smarter than simply slaving away. You're slick, Mr. Mackenzie."

"You wouldn't have me otherwise."

The silent walk to the classroom made the day for both of them.

* * *

"Jeffy, don't bore him to death." Jamie tried to stop the instant replay Jeffy offered to Joey. Of course, his pleading was futile.

"..., so, he was like trying to trick her into bowing down with a barbell, but she didn't. And when she asked 'can't get it up?' Jamie here was all 'Not a bit'."

"C'mon, cut it out Jeffy, it wasn't that funny."

"Right, but when she said 'try Viagra', that was way funny."

"She didn't!" Joey started to laugh.

"Exactly like that. And what was the other thing, she said, Jamie? You were closer, you should know." Jeffy joined the laughs.

"Just shut up, man!"

"Maybe I can pinch some V from my dad's stash. Anything for a friend!" Joey offered.

With an "ARGH!" Jamie vented his frustration. He hoped that this incident wouldn't spread all over the school and blow over quickly. Then he saw a cheerleader staring wide eyed at him - and his crotch. She had obviously overheard parts of the conversation.

«_Ah, shit._» This incident would haunt him for quite a while.

* * *

Before the girls parted after history, Stacy stepped forward to set their plan into motion. She was eager to see this through.  
"So when are we going? We should not hesitate, the movie's the talk right now."

"Iii have daaaates lined up aaaall Friday. Aaaand the weeeekend."

"I as well, Tiffany. And I assume everybody else, right Quinn?" Sandi asked.

Stacy just nodded at this.

«_I'd really like to know what your friggin' problem is. But you got me there, I give you that._»  
"Yes, Sandi, Friday and the weekend would be a bad choice. And the movie would be almost out of fashion by that time anyway."

"That's right Quinn, we really need to hurry to stay up to date on that. How about tomorrow? We can catch the six pm showing." Stacy pressed on. The next class was not waiting.

Quinn and Tiffany immediately gave their consent, and Sandi had nothing to counter the time argument.  
"Well, if we all agree that's settled. We'll meet tomorrow at six at the movieplex."

* * *

In the lunchroom, the freshman part of the football team gathered around their usual table and were having a good time - at Jamie White's expense. The episode with his failed trick on the shemale and her funny retort had spread around much quicker than Jamie liked it to. After the second period in the hallway he was sure that some girls shot funny looks at his crotch. But he wasn't certain, that could have been general paranoia as well.

"Hey White, I'm not sure you should be having all the meat. You know, hormones and stuff. Will bring you all more trouble getting things up."

Laughter filled the table, and the speaker tried to nick Jamie's cafeteria issued meat replacement from his tray, but Jamie wouldn't have that.

"C'mon, I'll trade you my salad! That's way better for you!"

"Maybe he's already beyond help. You'll start wearing panties next week?"

"Can it, man!" was Jamie's answer, but he was drowned out by more laughter. The diversion was long enough to see his meat gone - and half eaten.

"Thanks man, here's the salad!"

"Ah, shit man, that's my lunch! That ain't not funny no more!"

"That's payback for failing to show the goodies, as promised." said his team mate, chewing on the stolen you-can-believe-its-not-meat.

"C'mon guys, that was worth a try! You wanted to see!"

"You played with the fire, you got burned."

"You should have asked Legs for a date instead. Ah, sorry, you're not interested - Viagra required."

"Cut that crap, man. It ain't me pinching from my dad's stash. And I'll date her before you do!"

"Dream on, Mr. Bio Logicaldy Sfunction."

The constant ribbing of his team mates had frustrated Jamie, but the lunch was the straw that broke the camel's back. He made a defiant decision, the day could hardly get worse anyway. Under his breath he uttered "Watch me!", stood up and approached Quinn.

* * *

"Morris!"

"Coach Gibson. It's rare to see you in the teachers' lounge."

"That girl of yours had the gall to show up again!"

"First, she's no 'girl of mine' but one of **our** students. Second, what did you expect after Monday?"

"Yeah, yeah. But she's trouble."

"How so? Did anything happen?"

"The team members weren't training properly this morning. They were all talk!"

"Sooo..."

"You've got to do something about her!"

"Gibson, I told you: She has the right to use the gym the same way everyone else has. As long as she's using it in a safe, normal way there's nothing you can do. If I was you, I would not risk my ass trying to get her out on some shady reason."

"But she's disturbing the team!"

"As far as I can tell the team's the problem - and not her. And as long as this doesn't change, she'll train at the gym as often as she pleases. But feel free to discuss this with Miss Li. Or Barch, if you feel lucky."

With wide eyes, but a disappointed facial expression, Coach Gibson nodded and retreated from the teachers lounge. It started to sink in that this situation might be permanent.

Ms. Morris decided to give him a concluding caution.  
"Gibson, and before someone does something terribly stupid, review the county's policy on sexual harassment. Any slip there could bite everyone in the ass — friggin' B-I-G time."

Coach Gibson didn't turn around, but nodded again and said something. Ms. Morris was not sure if this was a 'Thank you.' or a 'Damn shit.'.  
"News for you, boys: Emancipation happened. Welcome to the 'now'." Ms. Morris mumbled to herself.

* * *

Quinn did not want to look clingy, so she opted to sit on her own during Wednesday's lunch period. The Fashion Club did draw some attention, so she sat a little away from the girls, in the neutral zone of the cafeteria.

Between bites («_I need to get some real food - somehow_») and observing her fellow students, she browsed through the local contacts the agencies in Highland had given her. After she finally caught up with the reading list she could think about jobbing again. She needed the practice, the contacts, and the money.

"Hey Quinn..."

Quinn looked up from her notebook to find one of her male classmates addressing her. He was the first to approach her, so Quinn leaned a little back and rewarded him with a smile.  
"Hi! You're ... Jamie, right?"

"Oh, yeah, Jamie, that's me. Uh, Quinn..."  
The radiation of her two hundred watt smile fried his brain.

«_Will he?_»  
"Yes...?"

Finally, Jamie blurted things out.  
"Would you go on a date with me?"

As soon as the words left his mouth, Jamie was embarrassingly aware that he had made his pass on Quinn in the most blunt manner (short of 'Let's shag!'). Luckily none of his so-called friends were in hearing range. Sophisticated was different. He steeled himself for the unavoidable rejection.

«_Yes! Finally! Way not perfect, but I have to start somewhere._»  
"Yes. However..."

Jamie was sure to have misheard.  
"Yes??"

"I need my parents' OK. I'm not allowed to date on weekdays, and they want to meet anyone whom I'm dating."  
«_And it always struck me that they never asked to 'meet any __**boy**__ whom I'm dating'._»

"Yes?!"

"Well, maybe we could go for a movie on Friday evening. The new movie by Ron Goo starts this week. If I can get an OK by my parents." «_Better make some rules known early._»

"Yes!?"

"We'll talk about the details tomorrow, OK?" «_That almost sounds like begging, but I doubt he'll notice._»

"Yes!! Uh, yes Quinn, Friday's perfect if you can get an OK! I'll ask you again tomorrow, OK? Later!"  
Jamie was smart enough to end this while things were still going well. His mind in overload, he returned to the table with his friends.

* * *

"And, Mr E.D.?"

A baffled Jamie returned to his table and resumed mechanically eating the salad he had been 'traded' for his meat replacement.

"Whoa, that must have been a hell of a shot down. Keep all sharp things away from him."

"Jamie. Jamie! C'mon, you didn't get slapped!"

"Maybe she offered him some advice with female issues."

As realization sat slowly in, Jamie White realized that the taunting of his friends had lost its bite. Unwilling to be subjected to further questioning, he decided to make his exit. Quick, quiet, and impressive.  
"I dunno about you guys, but I've got a date on Friday."

* * *

Mack found Daria before their 'advanced hieroglyphics' AKA economics class.  
"Daria, you have a minute?"

"About. What is it?"

"Look, about your conversation with Kevin in the gym..."

"It's hard to believe that this was really happening."

"Yes, and it was funny as well. But Daria, please don't."

"Don't what?"

"Don't make such a fool of Kevin. Well, not in front of the team. Compromising the QB subverts their morale. I appreciate the humor, but I'm their captain. I'll have to set Kevin **and** the team straight later again. Please. It's hard enough as it is."

"Oh."  
Mack was one of the few people at her new school Daria had come to respect so far, and she was by no means set to ruin that contact. And he did have a point.

Mack was astonished how uncomfortable Daria suddenly seemed.  
"Look, you don't have to stop poking fun at Kevin. But don't make him look like the total fool he acts like in front of the team."

"I'm sorry Mack. I didn't mean to. Well, I did, but neither to cause any harm nor trouble for you." Daria said rather subdued.

"No harm done, just keep it in mind for the future. Cultist!" Mack answered with a grin.

"Heathen! Beg for the gods' mercy!"  
Daria was happy that her apology had been accepted, but scolded herself for her short sighted actions.

* * *

The self esteem class was exhausting, as usual. Mr O'Neill recited his text, and beside noting some buzzwords every now and then, there was not much to do. On a sunny autumn afternoon as today, sleep was a tough opponent.

Daria hadn't brought the borrowed psych books with her - no use in getting caught 'cheating' - but was pretty confident that they fit the class material pretty well. Most of it was Orwellian feel-good brainwashing anyway. The real problem of getting out of this class for good was the ominous re-evaluation by the school shrink.

Daria had a look at her fellow convicts. Most looked even more bored than her, and some of them seemed to have mastered the art of sleeping with open eyes. Jane was drawing on her sketchpad. The girl from the rainbow society, Dusk or something, was listening to music on her headphones. Apathy permeated the room.

Daria wondered how O'Neill could stand to talk at a class that was obviously completely uninterested. If he did notice the fact at all. The rest of the week would be different. Boys and girls separated, with the girls being 'instructed' by Mrs. Manson. Daria had a pretty good idea what all that would be about.  
«_Maybe I bring some stuff for a little show and tell._»

She discarded the idea quickly. While it had undoubtedly potential for amusement, she would rather not piss off Manson. No need to get herself into trouble for that petty bitch.

Finally, the bell delivered Daria and the other students from their ordeal. Daria and everyone else made a quick exit, and the Lane girl naturally walked up to her and started a conversation.

"You told you've been running to school; you run regularly?"

"Not really. Just if the opportunity arises."

"I could provide plenty of opportunities. I like to run for fun."

"Talk about depraved. But I kind of got that from P.E. class."

"I don't see any shoes. You stocked them in your locker? That gets really gross. Quick. Like instantaneously."

"No shoes. Like this."

"In those boots? That's stupid, there's a good reason why they make running shoes."  
The Lanes were not well off at all - as far as Jane knew. Especially not the Lanes abandoned at Lawndale, which Jane knew from first hand experience. But nevertheless she always made sure that there was some money for art supplies - and proper running shoes. Even as a teen she was not planning to ruin her health by being penny-wise and pound-foolish.

"Jane, you might end up in circumstances where you have to run without the opportunity to select your footwear first." Daria gave the - to her - obvious answer, and immediately chided herself for doing so. That might provoke questions Daria was more than uncomfortable to answer. She had let her guard down too far. Again.

It took a second for Jane to understand what Daria meant. Once she did, the calm voice that Daria had used sent shivers down Jane's spine.  
«_Do I want to know where she has that insight from? No. Sometimes, ignorance is bliss._»

Daria was glad that Jane did not ask any questions. The girls walked in silence up to the school gate, where they bid their farewells and headed off to their respective homes.

* * *

Arriving home, Daria immediately proceeded to prepare the dinner, as she had promised her father the evening before. With him and her mother still out and Quinn upstairs, cooking was a quick affair. Daria just hoped her parents made it back on time.

They did, and by six the Morgendorffers had dinner. Helen was surprisingly talkative, since she had managed to win her first case at Lawndale. Something tiny and minor, but the first step on the career ladder at the new office. Between her and Quinn, who told enough about the LHS for both of the sisters, Daria was glad to keep more or less to herself.

Daria pricked her ears up as Quinn asked for permission to go to the cinema the next day with some other girls. Given the title Quinn mentioned, Daria could believe that part. Immediately after the gym, she could make it just in time for the six o'clock showing. After last week's performance, Daria was not sure how Quinn expected to stay awake through a movie, but gave her credit for remembering the gym at all.

Daria joined her father to clean up the kitchen in order to make sure that he didn't discover the spices she had hidden by accident. He told a little about his current project's progress and that his secretary would start next Monday - half days for starters.

"Dad, mom's not going to be happy with you drinking all that coffee that late..."

"I'm just making an au lait for Helen, Daria. Nothing else." Jake answered with a grin.

"Sure."

Jake filled the 'bol' - and drunk the other half of the coffee straight from the jar. "See?"

Daria just shook her head. "Your funeral."

Jake shrugged, and proceeded to serve his wife in the living room.

* * *

"Yo!" Jane had long ago learned that it was polite to say one's name when answering a phone. Not that much later she learned that it was smarter not to do so.

"_Is this the Lane residence?_"

Jane recognized the voice immediately, despite the noise caused by the long distance connection. "Penny! Where're you calling from?"

"_Jane! I'm still in Nicaragua. And no, I'm not asking for money. My business isn't skyrocketing, but I'm currently doing OK. I think I'll stay a while down here. We haven't had a gunfight in over 4 months!_"

Jane chuckled. Penny was aware of the past pattern. "Sooo, why are you calling, if it isn't for money? Am I going to be an aunt - again?"

"_Heaven forbid! I'm not pregnant, Jane! I got my fill of kids second hand by Summer - as did you._"

"Well, you did change more diapers than I did, but... yeah."

"_And Nicaragua isn't exactly the best place to raise kids._"

"I'll take your word for it. Not money, not kids,...?"

"_I'm calling on dad's behalf. He dropped in a week ago out of the blue. He told me to tell you guys that he got another job, I think it was in Brazil, and he will be back at least six weeks later..._"

"...or whenever he's done." Jane answered exasperated. Her father had not been home for at least six months by now, and this time he did not even bother to call in personally to announce his further delay.  
«_I wonder if he'd still recognize me if we met in the main street._»

"_He didn't give me any further details, sorry, Sis._"

"He should get himself an Iridium phone. How about your..."

Jane's question was cut short by lots of noise and creaking in the line, followed by the busy signal.  
"Damn."

Jane put the receiver down and made a mental note to tell Trent. They would have to do some serious book keeping to stay afloat until any of their parents showed up again. The bank got very suspicious with any checks that said 'Vincent Lane' or 'Amanda Lane' that were not cashed in by those persons themselves.

Jane was not sure why, but suspected some deals done by Penny or Wind under a false name had alerted the feds. She didn't care that they did, but that they were bad enough at it to raise suspicions.

Any signatures she faked were indistinguishable from the original, and beside that fact no illegal activities were involved. She **somehow** had to get living expenses while her parents were absent.

* * *

Helen sat on the sofa in the living room, the 'bol' in front of her, and stared into space. It was the first time Quinn saw her relaxing a little since the Morgendorffers had arrived at Lawndale. Quinn felt a little guilty about interrupting her mother's rare time off, but she had to get over with the issue today.

"Mom?"

Helen refocused and noticed Quinn in the living room, who was addressing her. From the kitchen muted clutter could be heard, likely Jake still doing the dishes.

"Quinn, sweety?"

"Mom, I'd like to go on a date next Friday." Quinn asked, well aware that her mother did not appreciate beating around the bush. And immediately addressing the issue would cut the discussion short and have Helen relaxing again as soon as possible.

Helen drew a deep breath.  
"You found a date, after just two weeks?"

"Yes. And it's just a date, mom."

"You know we still think you're a little young for dating."

"Mom, we've had the discussion before. I'm in High School now. And I'm older. We've set some rules. And Dad... well, I'm asking you."

«_But I still doubt you're older where it matters..._»  
"It's not a week day, you're asking in advance... You'll introduce your date to us?"

"I stick to the rules, mom. I will."

"How's the school work coming? You had to catch up two weeks."

"All done. Finally. I slaved the last week and the entire weekend, mom. That was a really mean thing to make me do! I'm not Daria."

Helen took a drink from her coffee and contemplated - with some pride - her daughter's sound line of argumentation.  
"Hmm. You're doing this by the book, so I can't deny you. But if he's some creep..."

"Mom, please. I don't date 'creeps'."

"We'll see. OK, pending he's alright, you've got a date Friday night. Curfew's half past ten."

«_You're kidding!_» "Mo-homm! That's, like, imprisonment!"

"Date and curfew or no date, Quinn. And you'd better make it on time if you're thinking about going on another date before the end of the year."

«_I'll swing the 'meet the date' policy, but that curfew on a Friday night?_»  
"Mom, that'll make me the laughing stock all over school! I'm not a kid anymore!"

"Quinn, you'll make it on time or you stay home. It's the first time you're out in a new town. Maybe we can extend that later."

"But Daria's out much later!"

"Because she's more than a year older than you."  
«_And NOT out dating. And even if she were..._»

"Mom!"

"Curfew applies. Take it or leave it, Quinn!"

"Damn. Fine! Curfew at kid's time!" Quinn said and exited with a huff.

"Quinn! Language!" Helen called after her daughter and thought about chiding her for marching out on her mother, but decided that the hassle was not worth the little educational effect.

Taking another sip on her cafe au lait, her thoughts returned to the won case and her prospects at the new office in Lawndale. She came to the conclusion that moving to Lawndale had been the right decision, after all.

* * *

Stacy sat in the living room and waited for her mother to get back from work. She was working the late shift again, and Stacy had set a light dinner for her as usual. Sandwiches and tea were not much, but enough such a short time before going to bed. Stacy really appreciated that her mother saw her off to school, no matter what her current shift was.

She read the movie review again to make sure she memorized all the details that the author pointed out. A romantic movie without a human octopus around - this was an opportunity Stacy was planning to enjoy to the maximum extent. And a soda afterwards with the other girls would provide an opportunity to discuss the movie while the memory was still fresh. This was an experience she was really looking forward to.

Stacy was still astonished how big the changes during the last weeks had been. She was in high school now, but with all her old friends changing as well, the difference to middle school wasn't that big. But Quinn's arrival had really shaken things.

The social order had been disturbed and everything was still in motion, but Stacy was sure that the final result would come out better than it had started. Sandi was exposing some of her less attractive features to an extent that Stacy had never seen before. But whenever Quinn was around she put an effective dampener on Sandi's fits.

The sound of a key unlocking the door shook Stacy out of her reverie. It was rather late already and her mother was home again. Stacy went to welcome, helped her settling down, and kept her company during dinner. But the ritual did not change Stacy's realization that things were looking better than before, even if it was just a tiny little bit.

* * *

Quinn sat in her easy chair and fumed. Life was not fair. She had expected a curfew, but not on kiddy level. And no one complained if Daria got in that late - on a weekday. Daria hadn't had to catch up on schoolwork, Daria got to stay out late, Daria hadn't had to deal with a neurotic princess, Daria almost had her driving licence - Daria got it all. Life sucked.

Quinn put her headphones on and used some music to blast the dark clouds from her mind. The speakers would have been more fun, but with the prospective date she did not dare to upset her parents. But half an hour with the volume set to 'insane' served its purpose nevertheless.

With her mind cleared, she went through her list with the contacts again. She planned to job again as soon as possible, and some seemed suitable. She scheduled Saturday for scouting - agencies, potential customers, and shopping opportunities. Getting around likely meant riding the bus, but it had to be done. Once she had her intel, she would try to compare notes with her father. He had an odd style, but knew his way about franchises, chains, syndication, and advertising.

Quinn was not taking any risks and quickly checked her homework list prior to going to sleep. Luckily, she had been able to complete all homework before dinner. Planning a dress for her date could wait until tomorrow. She wouldn't be able to do any emergency shopping in Lawndale anyway.

* * *

Edit: Some typos fixed, added Author's Notes

**Author's Notes**

Formatting conventions used throughout the entire text:

* spoken words: "I speak, so hear me blah."

* phone/remote part: _"You hear bodiless voices? It's ok in this case."_

* thoughts: «_I think, therefore I am._»

Missing spaces are an issue caused by the conversation to an FFdotNET compatible format. FFdotNET seems not to like spaces from the Unicode x2000 range and eats 'em. I try to fix this by hand, but I usually miss a few.

Other spelling & grammar: I try to stick with AE, but sometimes I have a BE relapse.


	11. Chapter 11 Price to Pay

**Size does matter - Chapter 11**

**by HawkingRadiation**

Story (c)2008 by HawkingRadiation (aka BlackHole at PPMB, SFMB)  
Daria and associated characters are (c)2008 MTV Networks

* * *

**Price to pay**

Preparing some snacks for school - self esteem class and quinnysitting in the gym afterwards required more than a school lunch could provide - Daria stopped as her gaze fell on the soda in the fridge. She remembered Quinn's plan to go to the movies immediately after the gym, and what had happened last week.  
«_UltraCola. More sugar or caffeine and it would be listed in Schedule I. 'Hyper' canned._»

Daria grinned to herself and packed two cans. One for herself, another one for Quinn. She did not have enough faith in Quinn's planning. Quinn wouldn't pack some additional snacks to accommodate her diet to long day and the training.  
«_I bet she won't hesitate a second before shotgunning the can._»  
Daria was torn whether this would be a prank or a favour. After all, this would get Quinn through the movie.

* * *

"Quinn, sweety, there's something about that date you asked me last evening."

Quinn looked up from her sparse breakfast, a glass of OJ and very little toast with cream cheese and tomatoes, and immediately went into the defensive.  
"But I did agree to the curfew!"

"That's not it, Quinn. I've got an invitation to dinner with the partners Friday evening and Dad's going to attend his business men's meeting again - I forgot about that."

"So?" There obviously was trouble, but Quinn didn't see it. Maybe her curfew would even go unchecked.

"So none of us will be around to see you off to your date. Which means there will be no date..."

«_Oh no! Nonononono!_»  
"Mo-hoommmm! No! That's..."

"Quinn! Don't interrupt me while I'm still talking! That's rude, and for sure not helping your cause!"

Quinn immediately realized that she had made a mistake. "Yes, Mom. I'm sorry"

"I understand you're not happy, but that can't be helped right now. I'm not saying you can't date - you just can't date this boy this Friday. Just postpone to Saturday - I checked with your father, he'll be home by that time. Definitely."

Quinn calmed down and tried to argue. "Mom, you always say we should stick to our commitments."

Helen just grinned. "Exactly, Quinn. And since you asked for permission last evening, you haven't made a commitment yet."

Quinn knew she was beaten soundly, but maybe she could get something out of it after all. "Oh, yeah, right. Maybe I can manage to shift the date to Saturday. Do you think dad could give us a lift?"

"I'm sure he can spare some minutes, Quinn."  
«_I'll make sure. After all, I failed to remember my appointment Friday evening last night._»

* * *

"Say Mack, I heard Daria was in the gym yesterday?"  
«_...and why did I have to learn that from the cheerleaders?_»

"Hmhm, she was. Man, some of the guys drew some real fire there."

"'Drew fire'? What happened?"

"She played some mind games with Kevin. If I hadn't stopped her, he would have gotten a brain cramp."

«_She __**is**__ mean after all!_»  
"She made fun of Kevin? That's low."

"No, he called for it. Captain Obvious asked stupid questions - and got stupid answers."

Jodie did not see how that connected to mind games. "Sooo..."

"He missed the 'kidding!' part and took everything for the truth."

"Ah, right. Kevin." Jodie shook her head. "She shouldn't do that."

"That's what I told her in private later on."

Jodie nearly experienced a facial malfunction at this. «_IN PRIVATE?!_»  
"You did?!!"

"While I appreciate the humor, I need my QB operational." Mack shrugged.

"Yes. She should really bear the consequences of her actions in mind!" Jodie answered, a judgmental tone thick in her voice. Involuntarily, but honest.

"Jodie, give her a chance. She just has a really wicked humor, and people as gullible as Kevin shouldn't exist to begin with. I bet you guys could get along really well."

«_What the heck?!_»  
"If you say so, Mack."

"You talked to her 'bout the speech stuff?"

Jodie stopped short. She felt a tad guilty, Mack's suggestion got lost between the myriad things that demanded her attention.  
"Uh, no, didn't have an opportunity."

"It's worth a shot, Jodie."

* * *

'Regrettably', Jane had been tardy for P.E. Now she was running circles on the perimeter of the sports hall, watching the girls play volleyball on the courts. Mrs. Morris had grouped the girls by perceived performance, giving all girls a game according to their abilities.

Without any previous knowledge, Daria was put in the medium group. Even if she wouldn't be good at the game, her size made her an asset to her team.  
«_Talk about air superiority._»

The P.E. class provided ample amusement for Jane. Beside some rather acceptable moves by the advanced teams the antics on the beginner's court were simply cute. And then there was Daria wreaking havoc in the middle court.

It took a while for Daria to get into the game, but the other team quickly learned to fear her once she was positioned at the net. The first one to learn was one of the better girls trying to spike the ball with Daria spiking it the other way. Ball and girl went nowhere, ball and girl simply dropped on the attacking team's court.

"Morgendorffer! Watch it! I don't want any casualties." Mrs. Morris injected from the side lines.

"Sorry. But that was a plain, regular..."

"Yes. Just be cautious!"

Daria didn't exactly heed those words. Jane noted that, once in the game, Daria was quite competitive. What she lacked in ball control she made up by simple power. One of her serves went seriously wide, and hit the rear wall with a loud smack - two yards beside a startled Ms. Morris' head.  
"God damn it, Morgendorffer! This isn't the shooting range! Keep it down!"

For several of Jane's rounds, she did.

* * *

Daria's spike hit the ball way above the blocking players' hands. With lots of power but little control the ball missed the wide opening between the opposing team's rear players, but hit the surprised Five bullseye in the face. Ms. Morris yelled simultaneously with the girl reaching for her nose.  
"**MORGENDORFFER!** OFF THE COURT! Go chase Lane! MOVE!"

Daria didn't follow that order immediately. She first went to the injured girl, apologized, and finally assisted Mrs. Morris to get her to the sidelines. From their movements, Jane inferred that the girl had a slightly bleeding nose.  
«_Wow, girl, you don't do things by halves._»

Passing by the group Jane heard Daria receive a serious scolding by Ms. Morris. The hit girl wasn't happy either and gave her some choice words, but Ms. Morris put a stop to that, since this had been just an accident. Finally, Daria started to run laps.

Jane slowed down a little and waited until Daria caught up with her.  
"Power is nothing without control..."

"Yeah, rub it in."

"At least you have found a way to get out of the regular class."

"No. Collateral damage. You could be next" Daria answered between fast but steady breaths.

Combined with their speed that told Jane, an experienced runner, two things. Daria wasn't a runner but had significant endurance. And she knew her stamina quite well. Jane knew to respect both feats.  
"Hey, I'll sue for assault!"

Daria gave a smirk but no retort and the girls ran several more laps in silence, watching the matches on the courts.

"Friggin' boob show." Disdain could be heard in Daria's voice.

"Hu?"

Daria pointed at one girl spiking and getting blocked.  
"You really think anyone watches that for the game?"

Jane had a hard time to not laugh out loud. The effort to keep the fit at bay forced her to fall back to walking speed, and Daria jogged away.

* * *

Jodie had mulled some time over Mack's suggestion and had to admit that it had its merits. Despite her dislike of the girl, talking to her beat working herself to death hands down. She would have considered teaming up with Lucifer himself to avoid a race for the valedictorian with a real contender. Based on what Jodie had seen in class, Daria seemed to be a real contender.

Jodie had been unsure how to broach the subject to her. Making sure Daria would not compete was going to require some social engineering. For the initial information gathering, Jodie came to the conclusion that the simplest approach would work best: Daria was new to LHS, and Jodie would play the helpful student council member.

With that plan in mind, Jodie walked up to Daria in the hallway after lunch.  
"Hey Daria."

"Hi Jodie. Busy as usual?" Daria slowed down to allow Jodie to fall into step with her.

"Just. Don't. Ask. Please." Jodie rolled her eyes.

"Suit yourself. So, you've business with me."

Daria's no-nonsense attitude was something that even Jodie could not deny as favorable.  
"In a sense. There's something you should know, and I guess no one's told you by now. You know about the graduation ceremony at LHS?"

"No clue. That's so friggin' far away I need Hubble time to see it."

Jodie chuckled. "The VLA works as well. But honestly, Daria, it isn't. You know how they select the valedictorian?"

"Take whoever's sufficiently literate, easy to control, and stupid enough to take the job?" Daria shrugged.

"I wish. No. The student with the best overall GPA gets volunteered. And since you seem to be a candidate for that, I thought you should know."

"Let me guess: 'For the glory of Laaaaawndale High'?" Daria answered, imitating Miss Li's pronunciation.

"Right. Obey your master. Master."

Daria smirked at the reference even if the topic was not funny at all.  
"Please tell me that this is something you can decline."

"No problem. Once your overall GPA has been adjusted..."

"You're kidding?! No, with Li, you probably aren't."

Jodie just nodded.

"Sick shit." Daria was not happy about that information. Having to do some mindless speech to please Big Brother was the last thing she was looking for. But a good GPA was her ticket out of the hellhole of the suburbs. There was no way she would deliberately sacrifice that to get out of this.

"No other criteria?"

"If it's a close call on academics they have a look at the extracurriculars."  
«_And the 'controllability' is for sure another criteria._»

Daria was relieved. Just academically she expected to be a contender for the hot seat, but if those got considered, she had a good probability to go unnoticed.  
"Good. I'm planning to bomb those big time."

This simple answer was way beyond Jodie's hope and took a load off her mind. Daria had no intention to compete, and Jodie got the impression that Daria would not mind some concerted action to avoid ending up as valedictorian. However, the casual way in which Daria dismissed all school activities piqued Jodie's curiosity. "Why?"

"Honestly, the school activities just don't suit me. I prefer to waste my time otherwise. And the 'school spirit' needs an exorcism to begin with."

Jodie gave a small smile. "I already contacted the Vatican. No use. Their priests are afraid to set foot into LHS."

"They've good instincts."

"Two thousand years of experience need to pay off somehow. I've got Bennett next. Later Daria." Jodie pointed at the classroom door they were just about to pass.

"Good luck with the hieroglyphics. Later."

Jodie sat down and started to sort through her student council notes.  
«_I think I could get along with Daria quite ok - if..._»

* * *

Again, Jamie used the lunch period to talk to Quinn. The chaos of the lunch room gave an illusion of privacy. Still unsure, but with a lot less dread he approached his target.  
"Quinn, about our date on Friday ... did you get permission? Are we still on?"

"Ah, Jamie, I'm sorry. I won't be able to make it on Friday..."

Jamie's face fell. A splendid opportunity, too good to be true, turned out exactly that way - too good to be true - and went down the drain.

"... but I have an OK for Saturday." Quinn put on her brightest smile again. She had had the date before, and she was not planning to let it go.

"Aw, that's really a pity, you really can't...Saturday?" Jamie suddenly realized that this was not the full blow-off he had been experiencing..

"Yes, I've an OK to date on Saturday. So if you're free..."

"Free? Ah. Yes. Yes! Of course I'm free!" Jamie blurted out. In the back of his mind he recalled there had been another commitment, but he couldn't remember what nature that appointment might have been. It didn't matter, there was nothing he wouldn't cancel for a date with Quinn.

"That's great. You can just come by my place, my dad can give us a lift afterwards if we need one. Address's 1111 Glen Oaks. How about we..."

Jamie found himself in a torrent of chatter, none of which really stuck with him. His mind was all 'date', 'Quinn', and 'Saturday'. He just gave some polite nods, and yes and noes. He would ask her to repeat the address later on, once he had the capacity to remember it.

* * *

Fate graced Brittany with an unexpected opportunity when she left the bathroom stall. At the sinks stood Daria washing her hands - and beside the two of them, the bathroom was currently empty. Quickly, Brittany stepped up to the sink beside Daria.

"Hi Daria!"

Daria looked up and spotted Brittany via the mirror. "Hello Brittany." Daria didn't expect much from the upcoming conversation, but was willing to be polite.

Ever since their conversation the day before Brittany had wondered about Jodie's irritated reaction once she had mentioned Kevin telling her about Daria's visit to the gym in the morning. Brittany had been wary once she learned the fact herself, and Daria in general, but Jodie's reaction...  
"Say Daria, Kevin told me you're in some cult? They're not evil, are they?"

Daria shook her hands off and Brittany followed suit.  
"Of course not, Brittany. But if they would secretly plot for world domination, I wouldn't tell you, would I?"  
«_Better not use 'subjugate'. 'Tit sandwich? But, Daria, you told you weren't gay?'_»

"Uhn, I guess no?" Brittany discarded the paper towel and twirled her hair.

Daria noticed that this could go way out of hand if she forced this issue on.  
"Exactly. But there is no such thing. It's just lifting heavy things. Kevin does it as well, and he isn't evil, is he?"

"No, not my Kevvie!! He's good!"

Daria held the bathroom door open for Brittany and gestured her to pass through.  
«_Question: in which regard?_»  
"See, all harmless."

Brittany thought a second about this. This was sound reasoning, but didn't put her mind at rest concerning Daria being around Kevin - unsupervised.  
«_I know what we've been doing in the shower room..._»  
"Maybe I should visit the gym in the morning as well. I could use some training to build strength for the pyramid."

Daria shuddered at the commotion Brittany's mere presence would cause in gym - and did not dare to imagine what would happen once she would start to exercise. «_Drool, ankle high. Ew._»  
"Uhm, Brittany, you should really go the Girl's gym in the afternoon. You'd have to readjust all machines to your strength. That's really annoying."

"Really? It is?"

"I have to do that the other way 'round in the girls gym; this is the only reason I go in the morning. I'd rather sleep longer."

Brittany thought about it, and was sufficiently happy with the reasoning. "Uh, yes?"

"I think I've seen some other cheerleaders there, so you'd be among your squad mates as well. All win."

"And you? You don't have any friends with you during the morning."

"Could be because I don't have any friends at LHS. But I know Kevin and Mack, they keep me sufficiently amused. Later."  
«_And Jamie O'Shit, Mr. Viagra, and I guess there are more to come._»

Daria entered the class room while Brittany continued to her class one room down the hall. She was not happy with the possible implications of the term 'amused'. She would have to make sure that Kevin was not looking elsewhere for amusement.

* * *

'No things in life are free.' This simple piece of wisdom got another dimension for Jamie once he had digested that he had indeed scored a date with Quinn. **THE** Quinn aka Legs. But the appointment he had to cancel was another date, as he had remembered.

Canceling a date was extremely impolite, but this was a once-in-a-lifetime chance, and he was not going to miss that. But he was for sure not going to make a habit out of it. Being unreliable was a sure thing to get you shunned from the dating circuit.

He did some planning - he needed a profound excuse. But with his dad being a contractor, going for the 'needs my help to meet the Monday deadline' seemed natural. But while that would bring in some moolah, it could hint at him preferring money to a girl's company. He could bring up pressure from his parents, but that would mark him as dependent and controlled. However, he could play it as an obligation to the family business and come off as a responsible adult.

He approached the girl, steeled himself, and started to cancel the date the way he had practiced before.  
"Say, Sandi..."

* * *

"...so there is nothing like the right weight. Or the right height. Only what is right for you."

"The rest are just unhealthy habits that'll kill you in the long run." Daria mumbled, unable to keep her comments on the half baked wisdoms Mrs. Manson preached.

That did not get past Mrs. Manson, who had a close eye on the major trouble makers - Lane and Morgendorffer, cosily sitting side by side in the last row. She had to admit that Ms. Li's prediction had turned out exactly right - much to her chagrin.  
"Miss Morgendorffer, you were saying...!?"

Daria cursed herself for letting her attitude get the better of her.  
"The 'right for you' better be healthy."

"Yes, of course, Miss Morgendorffer. That's exactly what I'm saying. For a healthy self-esteem only the 'right for you' matters."

"I was referring to the physical health."

Mrs. Manson was not entirely sure what to make of that comment. It was neither wrong nor beside the topic, but the way that Morgendorffer brought it up seemed just so challenging.  
«_Well, two can play the game._»  
"Ah. Yes, that's right. But there's a really wide range of height and weight that is to be considered healthy. Find what's right for you within that range. Miss Morgendorffer, care to enlighten us a little about the 'physical healthy' part?"

"There's what's called the 'body-mass-index' or 'BMI' that's used to boil things down to a single number. Of course, that's more-or-less a rule of thumb thing. In the end there's only what's right for you."

Only the tiny smirk on Daria's face told Mrs. Manson to think twice about that answer.  
«_Parroting! Smart, devious brat!_»

* * *

After the self-esteem class let out, Jane walked up to Daria.  
"Uhm, Daria, that's some risky commenting you've been doing there. Remember, she gets to say who gets off."

"I'd rather do another round than be the reason for someone to decide that the BMI of a concentration camp victim is 'just right for me'. "

Jane was astonished how opinionated Daria was on that topic. "You're right, but..."

"I don't mind nonsense, but that was dangerous nonsense. Preached to malleable minds." Daria shook her head.

Jane stopped and looked at Daria. There was too much truth and passion in her statement.  
"So, and your story is... ?"

Daria shot a surprised look at Jane; she had not been expecting the conversation to go into that direction. She shortly contemplated if and what to tell.  
"Look, if you go through puberty in fast forward mode, regular and healthy eating habits don't develop naturally."

"So, you had some close encounter?" Jane probed for more information.

"No. But someone pointed me to the issue before it became one."

The tone of Daria's answer told Jane more than the answer itself. Daria was dead honest, but clearly not telling everything. And the wariness in her voice told Jane that Daria's journey so far had not been free of troubled waters.

"Look Jane, I don't have much time today. My sister's waiting at the gym. Or at least she'd better be."

"Ah, right. See you tomorrow."

"Later, Lane."

Jane looked at Daria's retreating form and noted how normal things felt.

* * *

They entered the gym little after five. Daria surveyed the room, gave a short nod to Mrs. Morris, and noted mostly familiar faces among the other visitors. Again, Daria did not fail to notice the mixture of athletic, wiry types, likely cheerleaders and track team members, and girls more on the chubby side that gave the best they could.  
«_Who ever had the idea deserves a medal. Hardly any of them would go to a mixed class._»

Daria was surprised how diligent Quinn was with her exercises that day, but she clearly had ulterior motives - her frequent glances at Daria gave that away. The sooner she would be done with her regime, the sooner she would be out of here, and the sooner she would be at the cinema.  
«_You're doing quite OK once you put your mind to it, even if your counting is a short three or four. I wonder how well you know your stamina._»

All Daria had to do was to go through some light training. Readjusting all machines was too much hassle, she would do some real training at another time. This way, she had more capacity to observe Quinn and the other visitors.

Among the new faces, Daria spotted the Goth from several of her courses. Daria greeted her with a small gesture. Her sets seemed odd to Daria, very exhausting but little results, but she decided not to comment on that.  
«_Not my business. At least she's working herself._»

* * *

Quinn was relieved that her plan was working. She focussed on her training, and indeed Daria did hardly interfere and wasn't breathing down her neck all the time. She even managed to cut some corners. This way she would make it in time to the cinema. She was really excited to see that movie, and on top of it this was going to be the first time since her move to Lawndale that she had contact with some peers outside of school. Quinn was a social person, and she needed to establish a circle of friends rather fast to keep her balance. But the movie, and a date on Saturday - she was getting there.

"Quinn, hold a sec."

Daria's voice shook Quinn out of her daydream, and she froze as told to. Quinn felt Daria assisting her so she wouldn't get a cramp. "Yes?"

"Your legs - again. Do you want to ruin your boy bait?" Daria said, and used her left hand to direct Quinn's foot, calf, and thigh in to slightly different positions. "All in a line. Now go on. Slowly."

Quinn was stupefied by the casual way Daria put her hand on Quinn's inner thight to guide her movements, but her sister didn't even seem to notice. Obediently, she followed her sister's instructions.

"There, that's the way, Quinn. Don't lose your focus again, you've been doing surprisingly well today."

Quinn noticed the hidden praise, a rare event, and did as she was told. She didn't need any further delay, or any, not even her sister's, hands four inches from her private parts. Or even worse, Daria starting her to work like the week before.

Quinn had a look at the gym's wall clock every now and then, and indeed she finished her last exercise a little to six. Her water bottle had been finished twenty minutes ago, and this week Daria shamelessly made no offer to share some of her own.

* * *

"Daria?"

"Ms. Morris?"

"You're very good at this. Well, way better than at ball sports."

"Uh, look, I'm really sorry, but that in class was really..."

"I know, an accident. But I didn't want to bring that up again. I watched you with your sister. You really have the instructor stuff down. Where's that from?"

"I had to do some physiotherapy myself. I just listened to my trainer and read some anatomy stuff up." Daria shrugged.

"But you also know how to spot mistakes and correct them."

"I know how it is done. The rest is obvious."

"Hm. I like how you handle Quinn."

"I need to have an eye on her. Quinn's so small, she could seriously hurt herself. She knows how it's done, but doesn't concentrate. Today's one of her better days."

Mrs. Morris winced a little at the use of 'small' for a person a head taller than herself, but from Daria's point of view that made sense.  
"Anyway, I like your attitude and performance in the gym. Just be a little bit more careful with your classmates, OK?"

"Uh, OK, I'll try."

Mrs. Morris nodded and released Daria for her shower. Watching the retreating girl, she reviewed her plan and saw that it was good.

* * *

Daria followed Quinn into the locker room and found her sister nearly done undressing. Still, Daria managed to catch up with her since Quinn was fighting with a large beach towel to cover herself while removing her undies. Quinn being pretty pooped, though not as bad as last week, did not exactly help her coordination.

Daria rolled her eyes. «_Behold the secret: a female body._» Daria retrieved a can of Ultra Cola from her bag and popped that lid, causing Quinn to turn around and cast a greedy look at the can.

Daria looked for the second can in her bag, and considered to toss it to Quinn. She decided against it, since a surprised Quinn dropping her towel would get her really on her sister's bad side. Just the evil soda was enough. Daria popped the lid and handed the open can to Quinn.  
"Here you go."

Daria headed for the showers. "Hurry, you've a movie to go to."

Quinn followed her bare naked sister and shook her head, her hair covered with a towel and arranged in a turbanesque manner. Drinking from the soda, she noted that each and every girl in sight was looking at the siblings. A shiver ran down her spine.  
«_God, Daria, how can you stand that?_»

Quinn emptied and tossed the can before her shower reached a comfy temperature. After some exercise, diet soda tasted like ambrosia. Well worth some belching in the showers.

* * *

Quinn reached for Daria's soda, that sat beside her sister. Her own was long forgotten.  
"Daria, what soda was that can you gave me? That was really good. UltraCola?! NON-DIET UltraCola!?"

Daria looked up from lacing her boots and had a hard time to keep a straight face. She simply shrugged.

"Are you trying to poison me?!" Quinn was enraged, but more at herself for not noticing. But being angry at Daria was way easier.

"Uh, it's a soda? And if I was, you wouldn't be asking questions anymore."

"UltraCola, NON diet. Do you have any clue what that will do to my complexion!?"

"No, but it's a drink, not a facial mask. So what? And you better hurry up."

Quinn took the hint and started to pack up her things. "How can you make me drink that!"

The siblings left the locker room and made their way towards the parking lot.

"I didn't. You did. And you were quite eager. Training for some belching contest?"

With no-one around, Quinn did not have to hold back any longer.  
"Haha, and your strip performance is the lamest show ever. You should have given me some diet soda."

"Get real Quinn. Diet soda? Me? Be happy I shared at all."

Quinn had no retort to that. Daria had not packed an extra soda for her, had she?

* * *

In front of the theater Quinn got out of her mother's car with minutes to spare. She was a little pissed at her sister for instilling that junk soda into her, but at least it quenched her thirst.

Spotting the girls from the Fashion Club was not difficult. Quinn smiled a little when she noticed that they were indeed getting some looks from the males around. They, well, that Sandi girl, wouldn't be able to complain in that department. The greeting was friendly as usual, nevertheless.

"Hi Quinn!"

"Gee, Quinn, you're rather late. The movie's about to start any minute."

"Sandi, it's a least fifteen minutes of commercials before the movie starts. Don't panic." «_That will strain your complexion, and you can't afford any loss in that department._»  
"You guys got your tickets already?"

Stacy and Tiffany acknowledged that, so Quinn immediately headed for the ticket booth. With the six o'clock showing immediately starting, there was no line.

"One student for theater four, please."

Quinn immediately felt his eyes undressing her in the most overt way, which made her seriously uncomfortable. As he made no move to provide the ticket, she pressed the issue.  
"Theater four, please."

The pimpled boy in the booth finally managed to unglue his eyes from Quinn's chest and looked into her face. "Student?!"

"Yes. Theater four."

"Uhn, may I see ID, please."

Quinn produced her LHS student ID and immediately put the admission on the counter. She wanted to get away from the leech as fast as possible.

"Argh, underage?! Aehm, I mean that's ok, here's your ticket. Enjoy the movie."

"Thank you." Quinn kept a polite front but made a hasty exit towards the other girls already waiting at the theater entrance, well knowing that his eyes followed her every movement - with only one thing in mind.  
«_Damn creepy sicko pervs!_»

* * *

"*Brr* That one wouldn't even be dateable if he had a nice car and no pimples. Let's get inside."

"Let's go, ladies. And remember to make a trip to the bathroom before the movie starts. Leaving during the showing is unfashionable." Sandi gave Quinn a displeased look and took the command back.

«_Right, sure. The idea to leave for some fun with your date never crossed your mind._»  
"OK, you guys go on, I'll grab some fat-free popcorn." Quinn needed to do something about the empty feeling in her stomach. She would have to remember to pack some snacks to accommodate for long days like this, but popcorn was stylish and would fill her up as well.

"Gee, Quinn, I hope you don't get fat with all that junk food."

"No worries, **I** do some exercise every now and then." Quinn had seen the minimum-effort strategy Sandi applied in PE. She dismissed the idea to get a large bowl for the four of them and treat the other girls. «_I wouldn't want to cause you any problems, would I?_»

"But there are some well-kept guys around I haven't seen at Lawndale High." Stacy said, well aware that they were being noticed.

Those were the last words Quinn heard before the girls vanished into the theater. «_Enjoy yourself._»

* * *

"...more, more, still a bit more, done! Now steer all the other way and...right. That's it, Daria!" Jake opened the door and checked the distance to the curb. "About half a foot. Perfect."

"If you say so - but it took rather long." Daria answered, tiny beads of sweat showing on her forehead.

"Daria, it's ok to take some time for parallel parking. If you manage like this time, the examiner won't mind that."

"I hope you're right. Failing would be..."

"Don't pressure yourself. Failing's not the end of the world. Even I failed the test the first time because that LOUsy examiner DID NOT SEE that BASTARD OF A..."

"Dad! Focus."  
«_Mom said that examiner refused to take your make-up exam - or sit in the same car as you ever again._»

"CUT ME... ah, yes. You could drive with a little more confidence, though. It's ok to be careful as a beginner, but you need to assert your space on the road, Daria."

"Dad, I doubt you'd like any dents in your Lexus. Let me do this my style."

Jake grabbed the door handle tighter and gave an uncomfortable chuckle at the idea of his car getting wrecked, but knew not to preach.  
"Right, better be careful. But then, if it happens, it happens - as long as you're unharmed."

Daria enjoyed the short break while the car sat at the roadside with the engine idling. She glanced at her father, smart enough to put his time instructing her to good use.  
"So, where to now?"

* * *

"...weeeere soo powerful. The colors weeere so bright aaand sooothing." Tiffany had really enjoyed the show. The movie had been slow paced, and relied less on words and actions but more on images and feelings. Not having to divert attention to her escort had been a big bonus, though the sobbing Stacy by her side was a tad disturbing.

"I was so moved!" Stacy's slightly blood-shot eyes told that she was not lying.

"Gee, Stacy, the whole theater noticed that. At least you were able to fix your make-up in the bathroom before anybody saw you." Sandi was not happy about Stacy engaging full crybaby mode. With the touching movie, a sobbing person next to her had made it very, very hard not to start sobbing herself. And Sandi was not going to cry in public, not after the slapping her mother gave her when...  
«_Griffin, what's done is done. Only what's ahead matters!_»

"The imagery was really powerful, and the way they used colors to transport moods was awesome. But I think they could have done something about the music, it was way too gloomy for my taste." Quinn tried not to let the touching experience be ruined by someone with permanent PMS.

"Yes, Bristol Sound really... I mean there's a thing like too much of a downbeat." Stacy said, and hoped that no one noticed her slip.

"For sure. After all the exercise I was about to nod off at one time. But the popcorn kept me busy." Quinn said with a wink.

"I hope the popcorn did taste good Quinn."  
Sandi was still a little peeved that she had not managed to snatch a little of the tempting snack. Quinn had gotten butter flavored fat free popcorn, and the smell had wavered over to Sandi...

"It was really delicious, Sandi. You should really have gotten a bowl of your own."

"Maybe we can share a large bowl among us the next time we go. It's cheaper that way." Stacy suggested. Sharing a bowl of popcorn would be a great gesture of companionship.

Quinn did not miss that Stacy had no doubt at all that there would be a next time. Looking at her wrist watch, she saw that there was still about an hour before she had to be home. Luckily, she managed to finish that home work for tomorrow in the library between classes and the gym.  
"So, are we going to call it a day or...?"

"There is the new Healthy Fruits juice bar at the mall's food court..." Tiffany's suggestion was quickly approved. Juice was a fashionable drink.

The consensus was that the movie was quite good, but not as good as the reviews indicated. Watching a chick flick in an all girl group however had been tested and approved. No talking, no whining (ok, sobbing), no grabbing, and no one expecting favors in return. Even Sandi had to admit that these advantages compensated for having to pay.

One hour and a large 'VitaFit' juice later, Quinn arrived home.

* * *

"Hmm, let's take the Highway out of town and then the countryside route back. You need more practice driving in the dark."

Daria felt uneasy. Her father unerringly picked the thing she was worst at. Her eyesight wasn't great to begin with, and things got worse in the dark. Just from the lights, she had very little idea how far away other cars were - and how fast they were approaching. But her father was right, she needed to train that.  
"OK, Dad. Towards Oakwood?"

"No, towards Greenfield."

Daria nodded, pulled a little back, put the gear into "D", set the turn signal, checked the mirror, and started to ease out of the parking spot. A car passed in the second lane, honking loudly. Daria startled and immediately hit the brake, bringing the car to a jerking halt.

Jake, who had watched the whole thing looking over his shoulder, immediately launched into a rant.  
"IDIOT! BASTARD! ARE YOU BLIND?! SHE WAS PULLING INTO THE UNUSED LANE! STARTLING A LEARNER! HAVE SOME CAUTIOUSNESS!"

Adrenaline flooded Daria's system, and she kept a fierce grip on the steering wheel to show no signs of shaking. Daria desperately tried to calm herself. Nothing had happened.  
"DAD! You are not helping..."

"BRAINLESS FUC... yeah." Jake drew a deep breath. "Daria, you did not do wrong. Nothing at all. He was going on the inner lane, the outer was all free. Nothing would have happened. Take a breath, and start again. You weren't at fault."

Daria took some conscious breaths and willed her heartbeat down a little. Afterwards she started over, and this time she made sure both lanes were free. They rode on the highway towards towards Greenfield in silence. The shock still in her system, Daria drove even more carefully then usual, and every now and then she had to force herself to speed up a little to go with the flow.

Every now and then Jake mumbled a little to himself about one or the other driver doing illegal, stupid, or reckless things, but the first thing he said to Daria was "Take that exit, and then left." Daria complied, and steeled herself for the hard part.

After she turned onto the dark country road, she tried to get a conversation going again.  
"Next year's Quinn's turn to endanger your Lexus."

Jake's eyes bugged a little out at that prospect. Daria was a very diligent driver, as she was with everything else, but Quinn...  
"Only if she wants to drive with me rather than with Helen."  
«_Teenage daughters. God's revenge on all men._»

Jake reverted to silence again, and Daria was glad to be able to concentrate exclusively on the unlit, winding country road ahead.

* * *

Jane came down from her room into the kitchen to get herself a glass of water. At the kitchen table sat Trent, eating some cereal. Jane immediately moved in - Trent had successfully evaded her ever since that dreadful phone call.

"Trent, where've you been last night?"

Trent looked up. "Hey Janey. Was at Jess's. Practice."

"Guitar or hookah?"

"Janey!" Trent's scandalized voice was betrayed by his eyes.

"Well, now you're here and awake. We've a problem, Trent."

Jane's no-nonsense voice made Trent alert. "Problem?"

"Penny called. Dad paid her a visit and told her to tell us that he wouldn't be home for another six weeks."

Trent's eyes got wide. Understanding and resignation sat in as one.  
"Again? Aw, man."  
In his mind he took an inventory of the kitchen and desperately tried to remember the current balance in his wallet. The new effect he had his eyes set on was suddenly a distant prospect - again. Operating six weeks on a next to zero budget was not easy.

Jane filled her glass and took a sip. "I'll try to sell some stuff at the Sunday art fair."

Trent nodded. If Jane got lucky, that could cover the groceries for the week.

Trent's lack of an answer stressed Jane. She was not going to pull the whole weight. "You're trying to get some repair gigs, right?"

"Yes. I still have some placards left." Trent hoped he would not have to start selling any of his equipment - or have to resort to gutting it for spare parts.

"That should keep us floating 'til dad comes back. Or mom, wherever she is right now."

Trent nodded, but Jane noticed that something was still not right the way he was looking at the year planner. Dread rose in her. "What?!"

Trent sighed. "What about the mortgage cheque?"

"Shit! There's no way we can make that much money!" Jane kicked a cupboard hard enough to make the glasses rattle.

"We have to try."

"Damn! If I find out who of our dear siblings messed with the cheques and accounts, it'll take a surgeon to remove my boot from his or her ass!"

"I'll try to get some solo gig. Maybe I can do some acoustic stuff."

Jane looked at her brother. He would never be able to pull a nine-to-five job, so that was a pretty good idea on his part.  
"And I'll... I'll... I'll try to think of something." Jane had no idea and was dejected. She wouldn't mind doing some minimum wage job, but unless she started skipping school that would never bring enough moolah. And skipping school in her situation was unwise, if she was trying to stay out of CPS.

Trent looked at his frustrated sister and silently cussed at his parents for being so ignorant.  
"We'll pull through, Janey. We always have."

Trent looked morosely out of the kitchen window at his gas guzzling clunker. He would do a lot of walking in the near future. And if push came to shove, for a very long time.  
«_Five weeks._»

* * *

Daria decided to take a break when she walked in on the conversation between her mother and her sister. Both were in the kitchen, helping themselves from the remnants of Mexican takeout Daria and her father had collected on their way home. Between the two of them it took nearly half a bottle of pepper sauce to bring the burritos up to standards. Even Quinn kept the bottle within reach.

"...and he was simply gorgeous, even if just dressed in these poorish clothes he had to wear to suit the character. Sooo adorable, I can't wait to see him in a better fitting role. And the director really brought out his good side, a true master. And the landscape shots really touched your soul, Stacy was sobbing the entire time. She is such a crybaby. Hi Daria" Quinn babbled at her mother, but took time to welcome her sister.

Daria nodded back, not wanting to interrupt the conversation. She started water for her tea and considered what tea to have.

"And you were at the mall afterwards?" Helen asked between bites of her tortilla.

"Yes, to try the new juice bar. You would like that, Daria. All fresh, all healthy."

"I'll have a look." Daria said and gave a noncommittal shrug. She was pretty sure that the place would offer bad value, but she wouldn't mind a freshly squeezed juice every now and then on principle.

"So we just sat and chatted a little, and finally I had to leave because I had to be home way earlier than the other girls." Quinn said, slightly accusing.

"You're still new in town, give it some time. And Quinn, don't think about playing your father off against me." Helen did not miss her younger daughter's disdain at the set rules, and knew her well enough to caution her in advance.

Daria smirked to herself, drowning the bag of green tea in boiling water. But that reminded her that she had to ask for a clear curfew as well. 'At a reasonable time' was OK - until her mother decided to redefine 'reasonable' as the situation required.

"But the kids' curfew reminds me, Mom. I've postponed the date to Saturday. Please make sure things work out, I'd not like to go back on my word."

Daria stopped dead in her motions. Quinn did it again. New at school to first date: ten days. A bunch of friends to go to the cinema and hang out with on top. Daria herself: zero, null, zilch, nothing. Life was just great.

"It's ok Quinn, your father will be present, and I have no appointments scheduled either. But to be honest, that may change."

"Your new boss is working you hard, mom?"

Daria tossed the tea bag in the trash and picked her mug to return to her room.

"I need to give all I can, Quinn. You don't get a second chance to make a first impression." Helen answered, thoughtful.

"I know."

* * *

After dropping off the other Fashion Club members at their respective homes, Sandi Griffin closed her home's front door and slipped off her shoes. She was still unsure what to make of the evening, its unusual format made it comfortable and uncomfortable at once. Heading towards her room, her mother's voice surprised her.

"Hold it, lady! Where have you been? It's almost nine thirty!"

"I've been to the cinema, mother." Sandi answered truthfully, expertly reading Linda's body language and not liking the result.

"That's too early for the eight o'clock show and way too late for the six o'clock show. You won't fool me, Alexandra. You were doing backseat gymnastics with the date you didn't tell me about!?"

"Mother!" Sandi was appalled by the allegations her mother made.

"I hope he was good enough to wage grounding over it." Linda crossed her arms and glared at her daughter.

"Mom, I did no such thing! There wasn't even a guy with me! Really! It was just me and my fellow Fashion Club members."  
«_**I**__ do not put out, like some people do._» Sandi wisely did not voice that. Her mother was out for blood for some reason unknown to Sandi. She had made the curfew, after all.

"A movie without a date? Stop kidding me, Alexandra."

"We decided to make it a girls' night as boys lack the capabilities to honor a movie like we've seen."

"So your 'Fashion Club' already lost its touch and you don't even try to get dates anymore. Or are you all batting for the other team, now?"

Sandi's eyes widened. Her mother was pulling all registers. She would lose no matter what she did, all she could do was try to minimize the damage.  
"Mom, it was just us not wanting to deal with grabby escorts!"

Linda thought a moment about that.  
"Hm, I think I can accept that - for now. And why were you so late?"

"I and the girls went to the mall afterwards for a juice. To review and criticize the movie. I drove right back from there."

"I was expecting you back an hour ago. Now I had to see your bratty brothers to bed and will have to put in a night shift to catch up with my work to make up for the lost time!"

"But, mother, you didn't..."

"You know what the lack of sleep does to one's complexion. To your room, Alexandra, I'll think of a proper punishment."

Sandi did what she was told and went upstairs to her room. Talking back would do no good. Even if she would have had to be a psychic to know that her mother had expected her home earlier. Missing out on a snack before bed was not her choice, but she could stand to lose an ounce or two.  
«_Think positive. Just think positive._»

* * *

To quench her frustration, Daria had buried herself into homework, the journals and some writing, jotting text down like a Gatling cannon. Melody Powers was uncharacteristically direct that evening, but it vented Daria's anger.

After it was finally gone, Daria found herself with some spare time before going to bed. Her mind was set on watching some TV, but the cable was still out. She checked downstairs, but the living room was occupied twofold. Quinn watched some nature show, while Helen blocked the couch and the table.

Daria poured herself a glass of juice in the kitchen and reflected om the situation. The cabling in the house was OK, she verified that on the weekend.  
«_Maybe I should have looked at the issue from the other side._»

With nothing better to do, Daria walked into the garage, and located the cable transfer point immediately beside the mains' fuse box. A splitter distributed and amplified the incoming signal.  
«_Four outs - and I bet just the one to my room is broken._»

Obviously the outputs were not labelled, but her room being the last on the top floor ought to be the rightmost, leaving the one beside it to Quinn's room. Daria shrugged, and swapped the cables on the outputs.

On her way upstairs she had a look in the living room and found the TV still operational. Back in her room, the TV was finally operational again. So now either Quinn's room or the master bedroom were cut off. Lost in thought, Daria switched through the channels.  
«_Pigskin. Left propaganda. Christian propaganda. Shopping. Right propaganda. Liberal , remember, you're a music channel, so play some damn music. More right propaganda. History. Series. Movies. Vintage movies. Shopping. Motor sports. More Christian propaganda. Business. Cartoons. Uh, does mom know about that?! Travel. Soaps. Business. Liberal propaganda. Wow, more 'full contact sports'. Hablos espanol? Gardening. Bible TV! I'll get some laughs out of that..._»

It took Daria a while to go through the entire range. «_Great. Four dozen channels, nothing's on._»

Daria saw her bedside clock indicating nappy time. She hesitated a second, but set off to revert the cabling to its original state. No need to confuse any other family members. Getting and installing a new splitter would be no problem. Getting her parents to pay for it neither.  
«_But I need to do something about my wage._»

* * *

Returning from the garage, Daria stopped by the living room to run her findings by her father. He sat at the breakfast nook and was looking over some blueprints, likely from work.  
"Dad, got a minute?"

Jake jotted something down on the notepad that sat in front of him and looked up afterwards. "A second... there. For sure kiddo!"

«_Kiddo my ass._»  
"I think I found what's with my TV. It's not the cable, but the splitter in the garage. The channel connecting my room is busted."

"You sure?" Jake knew his way around the power lines, but that cable stuff was all new-fashioned mumbo-jumbo to him.

"I just connected to another and everything was working, so yes, pretty sure." Daria shrugged.

"That's great! I knew we wouldn't have to pay those rip-off rates the cable techs charge you!" Jake smiled at his small victory over the capitalistic system.

Daria gave a little smile in return. Having to share the TV was going to be history soon, but there was still the problem about her wage.  
«_Anyway, having a separate room from Quinn made it worth moving._»  
"Right, we can fix that ourselves. And it's a quick repair. Get replacement, disconnect, reconnect, hope, check, done."

"Say, Daria, can you get the spare parts? I'm rather busy at work so I won't have time to do that any time soon?" His current project gave Jake a convenient excuse to make Daria do it. She didn't need to know that he had no idea what to get.

Daria shortly recalled her schedule. "Tomorrow's training, but that can wait until Saturday."

"Great! So you'll see that finished!"

"But dad, I'll need some money. Those things cost more than I have in my wallet."

"Of course, that's kind of a moving expense anyway. How much?"

Daria did some math. The splitter would go arround seventy bucks, the cable guy would have charged one hundred.  
"Around one hundred approaching one twenty."

"Uh, OK, I don't have that much on me right now. I'll give you one twenty tomorrow, OK? And don't bother about the change."

"Sure. Thanks, dad."  
«_I love it when a plan comes together._»

"You gotta show me once you're done!"

"Sure, you'll know once the "A-team" theme is blowing from my room."

* * *


	12. Chapter 12 Blind Angle

**Size does matter - Chapter 12**

**by HermitRedneck**

Story (c)2008 by HermitRedneck (aka BlackHole at PPMB,SFMB)  
Daria and associated characters are (c)2009 MTV Networks

"Good news everyone!" - Daria officially on DVD in 2010!

* * *

**Blind angle**

"Hey Daria, you're like, praying to the gods of gravy again?"

Interrupted in her back training, Daria looked up and found her worries confirmed: Kevin. _You're joking; please._  
"Worshipping, Kevin, and gravity. And yes I am."

"So, you 'warship' very often?"

Daria rolled her eyes. Kevin was not joking. _Thick as a dreadnought's armor._  
"I need the gods to protect me continuously, so I need to pray quite often."

"That sounds like a fair deal. You know, like when you treat the chick to the movies and afterwards..."

_Jerk. And I'm wasting my breath._  
"Look, Kevin, I need to continue. Later, ok?"

Daria didn't even wait for Kevin's reply before returning to her exercise. He had successfully managed to get demoted from dimwit to lowlife. Blatantly expecting favours was exactly that kind of behaviour she expected from horny high school lowlife. And Quinn had a date the next night.

Daria spent little thought on her exercises, but physical exhaustion was a way to vent some anger. She didn't notice Mack keeping Kevin from digging the hole deeper.

* * *

Daria was doing combined back/arm exercises on one of the machines when two boys approached that very station. They waited a while and watched, but Daria had stopped minding that years ago.

"You're almost done?"

"Just ... a sec ... Let me ... finish ... my set," Daria answered during her exercise, but kept her pace.

"Hey, couldcha hurry a little? Some of us have real training to do."

Daria did not fail to notice the condescending tone in his voice, which was not helping her mood. _Asshole._  
"Just wait for your turn."

"C'mon, it's not like you're really doing anything."

_Observation ability: not present._  
"Look: It's free training time and first-come-first-served. Deal with it."

"Girls can't do real weights anyway." the boy said to his companion, who was surprisingly silent during the exchange and eyed the machine.

Daria stopped her exercise, drew a breath, and forced the urge to anally insert a barbell into the boy back down again.  
"If you say so. But the sooner you stop interrupting me, the sooner I'm done and the sooner it'll be your turn to do your real, serious training, right?"

This logic was not lost on the boy, and indeed he shut up. More anger fueled Daria's efforts, and she finished up just a good minute later.

"There," Daria said as she got up and started to wipe some sweat from her face and arms. However, she stayed in the vicinity of the station and watched.

"What?!" The boy who did the talking demanded an explanation.

"I want to know what real training looks like. Might learn something."

"Put on twenty more pounds," he ordered his friend without giving the weights another look and settled into the machine.

The other boy shook his head and did as he was told. He was smart enough to know when not to get involved. "Done."

On the machine, the boy started his exercise, but things were not going as expected. To be exactly, contrary to his expectation things were not moving easily. Not at all. _Uhoh._

After the fifth lift – clearly above his usual setting – Daria took pity on him.  
"Need a hand?"

"I'll take care of that," said the other boy and stepped in to assist. He gave a dismissive wave towards Daria. The point was made, further humiliation not necessary.

Satisfied, Daria headed towards the next free station that was in her training plan. _Clueless sucker._

In walking away, Daria barely managed to contain a grin when she heard a "You and your big mouth" from behind her.

* * *

Mack left the locker room and almost ran into Daria, who left the girls' locker room at the same time. They joined up for their walk to homeroom class. "Hey."

"Mack," Daria acknowledged, still brooding over Kevin's attitude and the fact that she was going to face sore muscles.

"You're quick at changing - for a girl."

"You have bad pickup lines - for a smart guy," a still peeved Daria shot back.

"Uhn. Sorry?"

After a little silence, Daria looked over and saw a questioning look on Mack's face, realising that she was venting at an innocent party.

"Sorry, Mack. Some guys were being pricks." Daria drew a breath and refocussed. "See, the locker room's empty. I don't have to fight for a spot in front of the mirror to apply my make-up."

Mack understood Daria's 'Do not ask' gestures.  
"I doubt there would be much of a fight."

"You've no idea. They scratch, bite, or spit poison."

That image made Mack laugh. "Like the team around the snacks table."

* * *

Ms. Morris was smart enough not to wait until Ms. Li called her, but visited the principal during the lunch break.

"Ms. Morris. I guess this is about the Morgendorffer situation?"

"Exactly, Ms. Li. I had an eye on her another week..."

"Ms. Morris, don't waste my time. I'm a busy woman."

"OK, I'll make it quick. You will not like it, but there is no school sponsored sports team I can see her making any kind of contribution to. Unless you want her to hand out water bottles and towels."

"Ms. Morris. There must be some way we can use an athletic girl like her for the school's benefit. I will not let an opportunity like this pass."  
_...or let any anarchistic element freely roam the school grounds and do as she pleases!_

"I agree with you, but she's a menace in the regular team sports and for sure no material for the gymnastics' team. And we have no wrestling team. But she has other usable skills."

"Somehow, I can see that. Sooo, you are thinking of an unusual way to occupy her?" Ms. Li was not happy about the negative assessment, but her interest was piqued by the way Ms. Morris was hinting at something new.

"Right. It's like this: She's strong because she is and has been a regular at the gym. She knows what to do, and how to do it. Properly, keeping an eye on health and safety. Have her supervise the gym every now and then."

"Ms. Morris, that's utter nonsense. State requirements are that a staff member with **certified** qualifications needs to 'supervise' any gym activity. I'm already stretching that with Gibson simply unlocking the gym every morning. Thank the Lord there weren't any incidents so far. It would be a real pity if I had to fire him for neglecting his responsibilities."

_Uhoh, I wonder how she learned about that. But that gives me another argument to convince Gibson later on._  
"But I bet there aren't any regulations that say that the staff member may not be a part timer working at minimum wage, are there?"

"Even that wouldn't make her certified. Stop wasting my precious time spouting deluded nonsense!" Ms. Li answered, disappointment at the half-assed idea enraging her. She was at the verge of getting out of her chair in order to show Ms. Morris the door.

"Ms. Li, think carefully about it. You said she is remarkably smart. How long could it take her to pass the A level instructor exam?"

Ms. Li was astonished that the female PE teacher had obviously put some serious thought into the matter and calmed down again. Ms. Morris had proven too smart to give her any blackmail material so far - which in Ms. Li's eyes was a real qualification. Maybe...

Ms. Li took a sip from her coffee mug, leaned back into her chair and looked Ms. Morris straight in the eyes.  
"Tell me more about your idea."

* * *

"So the motion to include visits to the cinema to the Fashion Club's list of approved activities has been carried," Stacy concluded the topic and recorded the fact for posterity.

Sandi waved with a thick ring binder.  
"Girls, make sure you add the suppository, aeh, supplement to your copy of the Fashion Club laws. Adherence to the rules is the principle that unites the Fashion Club."

"That's a copy of the Fashion Club laws? Damn, that's thick as a real law text," Quinn said, clearly impressed by the manifest.

"This is not a copy of the Fashion Club laws, but the original. This is authoritative in all disputes over the rules. This should be behind glass, like the constitution in, aeh, Boston."

"Iiits impressive," Tiffany agreed, lucky not to have to read the tome in one go. Its content grew from a ten item list while she witnessed a process that every legislative system experienced.

Quinn had to smile at the excitement in Tiffany's voice. "A real law text."

"Gee, as if any of us had ever read a real law book."

"I have, Sandi. Well, tried to and given up after the second paragraph."

"So that's what happens if you let your inner nerd run free, Quinn? Law texts are unfashionably boring."

"Sandi, I just had some interest in what my Mom's doing at work."

"Your mom's a lawyer," Stacy asked before the conversation between Quinn and Sandi turned into another argument.

"Right, and she really likes her job. I've no real idea why, though." Quinn said with a shrug.

"Yoooou don't get diiiirty."

"Yes, and fashionable business clothes are tax deductible."  
_No, one doesn't get dirty. Not on the outside._

* * *

"...and that rounds it up. Everybody wins."

Ms. Li had listened quietly to Ms. Morris explanation. Her plan was really good. It would occupy Daria by involving her in school sports. It would free some of the real coaches' time to spend on important matters. Like training the Lawndale Lions to bring home that state championship once again. If spun right, she could sell this as her personal efforts to generate educational excellence. On top of it, she could sell it as an effort in gender mainstreaming. And finally, it could be done in an almost cost neutral fashion.  
"I agree, Ms. Morris. That is, all in all, a well designed plan."

"This should cover every aspect of the matter - beside Ms. Morgendorffer's cooperation."

On Ms. Li's face formed a smile that everyone knowing her feared.  
"Don't worry about Ms. Morgendorffer's cooperation. Why would she reject such a splendid opportunity to get educated, empowered, and involved? I already know how to take care of that trivial matter. Go, enjoy your lunch. And inform Gibson about it."

Ms. Li's voice sent a shiver down Ms. Morris's spine as she exchanged a nod with the principal and left the office. _I do not want to know._

* * *

Fridays were different from the rest of the week in the LHS cafeteria. With a sports event coming up, the jocks were clearly in control of the room. The cheerleaders, the glee club and anything else that focussed on the school spirit was in the center.

From their usual table, the Fashion Club plus Quinn observed the madness with the same disdain they had for the cafeteria lunch. Things were noisy, the team jerseys optical pollution, and foremost: people were looking at, talking about, thinking about other things than the Fashion Club girls.

On top of that, Sandi was still peeved at Jamie blowing her off on short notice - and the fact that she had not a suitable stand-in date at hand. That was a mistake she was not going to commit ever again. She had just to figure out how not to end up as the party cancelling a date...

Sandi noticed that she was brooding and recalled her mother's advice: Show no weakness, be in charge. And so she did.  
"After the good reception our first 'girls' night' got, I suggest we repeat this rather soon, for example Saturday evening."

"But Iiii have a daaaate," Tiffany stated and shook her head slowly.

"Me too, Sandi, Greg's taking me to a party and you know yourself that the Fashion Club bylaws forbid cancelling a date, unless there's a sudden drop in the date's popularity, a skin care emergency, or force majeure, like a parental intervention, a car breakdown, or fashion-adverse weather. However, even these cases require careful documentation to prevent abuse as a forefront for personal interest. Based on those documents the Fashion Club's executive committee will...you know." Stacy lectured and stopped once she noticed no one was really listening.

Quinn got the impression that Stacy wasn't the Fashion Club's secretary for no reason. She felt expectant eyes on her.  
"Uh, sorry Sandi, but I was really lucky and got my first date in Lawndale. It would be a real pity to cancel that, so I'm busy on Saturday night as well. Maybe some other time."

Sandi had a hard time not snarling. Even the Morgendorffer abomination had swung a date for Saturday evening. She wasn't even in town for two entire weeks, had known no one before arriving at school, but had already caught up to the dating scene. From the rumors around school ninety percent of the guys were drooling over her. The remaining ten percent were the gay and the blind.

All girls had a date lined up for Saturday. And she, Sandi Griffin, was without. Jamie White's standing on the acceptable date list was not endangered, it was extinct. Lucky for him, she hadn't any contacts to hitmen. Maybe her mother..

"Yooou are reaaally lucky, Quinnnn." Tiffany was impressed how quickly the new girl adapted to the environment.

Stacy nodded. "Yeah, but you could be up for some disappointment; some of the boys are not exactly well behaved, and without the Fashion Club's data on dateability you could've picked a bad apple."

"Beee careful."

"Ah, girls, it's just a date. And with Barch in science, every girl knows where to kick a guy the way it really hurts."

Sandi, though still peeved, rose an eyebrow at the light conversational tone Quinn used.  
"Gee, Quinn, violence is not fashionable."

"No, it's not. But it might be the only language that gets 'No means no!' across," Quinn rephrased one of the things that she still remembered from her short appearance in a self defence class.

"Smart girls like me make sure not to get into such situations firsthand," Sandi said, tossing her hair as she felt an opportunity to turn things to her favour.

"That's the best practice for sure, but I'm not one hundred percent sure that I'll always manage. So I like to have a plan B ready if push comes to shove," Quinn agreed more or less, and Sandi was a little disappointed at that fact.

Tiffany looked at Stacy and saw that the other girl arrived at the same conclusion: that line of thinking did have its merits. Both were well aware that they had little chance if any of their dates would have malicious intents and they didn't manage to get their can of mace in time.

Stacy pushed this unpleasant issue aside and focussed the conversation back on its initial topic. "But Sandi, you're right, we girls should go out more often, but that needs planning to incorporate in our schedule. With the Fashion Club's meetings, dates, fashion research, and shopping we're pretty occupied. And then there's school and homework on top of it. Hmm, maybe we could integrate some Fashion Club business with a girls' night out, in order to increase time efficiency. We could integrate the Fashion Update and the Coordination Assembly with this and come out with time to spare. Of course this limits the activities, since vivid discussions about upcoming fashions during a movie are frowned upon by the theater operators and..."

"Stacy! Are you implying that the Fashion Update and the Coordination Assembly are of so little importance that they can be made an add-on to other activities," Sandi injected, to stop Stacy from prattling on and to regain control over the conversation.

Stacy knew her place. "No. It was just a stupid idea."

Unseen by Sandi, Quinn rolled her eyes. "I'd like an evening with just girls every now and then, well scheduled."

"You've noticed that I've already instigated another evening, Quinn. And I was thinking about inviting you too, even if you are not a Fashion Club member. However, everyone besides me has 'better' things to do that evening."

Neither Tiffany nor Stacy gave any indication, but both of them noticed the significance of that statement. Exclusiveness was the primary asset of the Fashion Club. Inviting another girl along was little short of an offer of membership. Not even girls that have asked to become members have gotten a chance like that.

"That's very nice of you, Sandi. I need to go that way. Later, guys." Quinn said, leaving the group with a tiny wave and heading to her class. She was happy not to have to deal with Sandi for a while.  
_She has permanent PMS or needs to get laid. ASAP and really good._

* * *

Stacy and Sandi walked towards their next class. Unbeknownst, Stacy made a mistake by voicing a thought that had been nagging her for a while.  
"Say, Sandi, didn't you have a date on Saturday as well? "

* * *

"Gibson," Ms. Morris asked as she entered the coach's ready room and, to her surprise, found him doing some paperwork.

"Morris. What's up," he asked, knowing well that there had to be a reason for her to visit him. Even though they were colleagues, there wasn't much love lost between them.

"I just talked to Li. There's good news and bad news."

Gibson rose an eyebrow. With Li in the equation, that could mean about anything. "Shoot."

"Good news is that you'll be able to sleep longer three days a week. Bad news is that we'll have to rearrange our budget a little."

That sure had his attention. Getting up early was really a pain in the ass. Only two days a week sounded too good to be true. But the budget... "Ok. Tell me more."

"Li wants Morgendorffer, the bigger one, involved in school sports, so I came up with an idea. You've seen her; can you imagine her on any school team?"

Gibson thought shortly about it. "No, not unless we get a female wrestling team."

"My thoughts exactly. So the plan's like this..."

* * *

"Say, Daria, is there any special reason why you're not interested in any school activities?"

Leaving the biology class with Mack and Jodie had not been a too smart move; Jodie was already at it again. Daria was unsure if that was on purpose or instinct, but gave Jodie the benefit of the doubt. She sighed.  
"Jodie, there is no reason beyond 'they consume time I'd rather spend otherwise'. They're simply not to my interest."

"But there are so many different..."

"See, Jodie, I attend the gym on a regular basis. That's a school activity that just happens to be neither club nor society. Just have Mack keep an attendance record if you don't believe me," Daria answered and pointed at Mack, who was walking on Jodie's side opposite from Daria.

"No additional paperwork, please," joked Mack.

"'Additional' paperwork," was Daria's - to her - obvious question.

Jodie gave the answer. "Mack's the football team's captain; he has to do the statistics."

"Isn't that the coach's job?"

"He does that for the official games, but not for the training."

"Training statistics? This is high school football, not the NFL," Daria said and shook her head.

"See, they are taking football really seriously here," Jodie said, and gestured at Kevin and Brittany, who were making out, leaning on some lockers down the hallway.

"That's hockey. And enough PDA for a week's worth of detention." Still, Daria got the point and thus nodded. Otherwise wearing the team uniforms all day would not be tolerated.

Mack laughed. As he had witnessed before, Daria had a wicked humor with about no respect.

"Team's privileges. Say Daria, why should Mack take your attendance record," Jodie asked, grabbing and holding his hand.

Daria was surprised that a smart girl like Jodie should have missed the joke.  
"He's there as well? And I bet you take his word over mine? And because it made a good joke?"

Mack just shook his head, but then Jodie hadn't been around Daria as much as he had. Using their linked hands, he pulled her towards himself as much as the PDA regulations would allow.

"A joke? That's hard to tell with you," Jodie said in a clearly faked friendly voice, somewhat relieved that there were no implications or ulterior motives involved.

_What's your problem? Really?_  
"As a cynic I take that as a compliment. Guys, I need to head that way. Later." Daria gave a curt nod and did not fail to notice how much Mack had reeled Jodie in.

With a twin "Later" at her back Daria took the turn towards the west wing. _Lucky bastards. Privileges? Why not the two of 'em?_

* * *

"Damn, those are some bad vibes Jodie's radiating," Jane said, catching up with Daria and shaking her out of her thoughts.

"Hi Jane. I'd give off bad vibes as well if someone stuck a broom up my ass and was determined to make my life miserable."

_I don't think that's the entire story here..._  
"I haven't seen Miss Determined in such a foul mood for a long time."

"Maybe she just hates me for not showing interest in her school spirit crap. Or maybe I'm too white." Daria said and made a motion as if pulling a hood over her head.

Jane grinned at Daria's politically incorrect joke.  
"It's not you being too white, it's Jodie not being black enough."

Daria stopped shortly, lifted a foot, and pulled the leg of her jeans up to reveal one of her boots.  
"If that's the problem, I can help her out."

Jane didn't miss a beat. "Shoe polish's some heavy make-up."

"...and will completely clog your pores! Skin care crisis, skin care crisis," Daria said in a girly voice, imitating some 'upset girl' motions she had seen Quinn doing.

Jane stared wide-eyed at Daria, who had suddenly changed her entire persona. At Jane's stare, Daria dropped the silly face again.  
"What?! Are my horns finally showing?"

Jane finally voiced her thoughts. "Now that was scary."

"What?"

"That was so dead-on, like it was your second nature."

Daria snorted. "Blame osmosis. I shared a room with Miss 'Look-at-me-I'm-pretty' until two weeks ago."

Jane filed that bit of information for later reference and tried to move back on topic. "Jodie's main problem is herself."

"She's always been that busy?"

Jane nodded. "I've known her since middle school."

"They say 'Hell is other people'. More often, it's yourself."

_Wicked and witted_  
"Poor lass." Jane waved a little goodbye before they split up for their respective language classes.

Thirty minutes into the class and replaying the previous conversation several times in her head, Jane made a decision to do something she hadn't done in a long time: Trying to make a friend.

* * *

"Let me recap: I get out of supervision on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays while you get out Tuesdays and Thursdays. That Daria takes the exam and gets the job. We need to cover minimum wage from the sports' budget?"

"Right."

"That's sick, Morris. We can't afford to waste any of the team's money on some crazy pipe dream. Your cheerleaders already leave an awful dent in the budget. God damn it, she's a student. And some friggin' girl," an increasingly enraged Gibson answered.

_You're such a prick._  
"News flash: Me too. Deal with it. This gives us **paid** time to do something **important** and gets Li off our backs. We can swing the money without any big impact on any other operations. I will see this through."

"I'll see Li and stop this nonsense right now!" Gibson got up from his desk in order to head for the principal's office.

"If you feel lucky. This's giving her **major** credit for gender mainstreaming and individual promotion."

He stopped dead in his tracks. "Shit."

_Backward chauvinistic moron._  
"Not shit. Get over your...ah, just use your brain! Everyone wins! Li gets Daria kept busy plus brownie points. We get time freed up and Li off our backs. Daria gets a skill certified, a job, references, and an income."

"Well, there's still the chance that the girl will simply reject the offer. I'll think about it when it's a deal done."

Ms. Li's voice still in her mind, Ms. Morris answered "I doubt it."

Gibson mulled over this while he sat down at his desk again and refilled his coffee mug. "I won't be able to stop this?" Defeat was thick in his voice.

"With it being on Li's agenda, no one will."

* * *

The velocity of students leaving the self esteem class on a Friday afternoon would have impressed even LHC physicists. No one beside Ms. Manson remained in the room when the bell ended.

Daria and Jane had made their way through the stampede and were heading home, which had become almost a custom by now.

"OK, Daria, spill it. You delayed - there was something else on your mind when you gave that answer!" Jane demanded, her hand forming a mock pistol and threatening Daria.

_She's sharp. I need to be more careful around her._  
"Hey, an evening of parlor games is a perfectly normal realisable daydream of a family activity!"

"There was something else - and you better tell me if you want to live."

Daria merely glanced over. "Jane, get your head examined, you're seeing things."

Jane looked doubtfully at Daria. Could her usually sharp instincts be off? Well, with Daria, this was possible, after all she had mistaken her for a boy.

She un-cocked her virtual revolver. "You're an odd one, Daria."

"And you're not different. So what's the torture menu for next week?"

"It'll be split like this week. Monday to Wednesday it's co-ed again with some sermon by O'Neill. The other days it's separated again, so we'll have to face Manson again..."

"Lovely," Daria injected.

"...and behold! The topic will be sexuality!" Jane said hushed, putting on a scandalized expression.

"Any live demonstrations and a hands-on experience?"

"Daria!" Jane answered, her surprised dismay not entirely acted anymore.

"Dang, how's my self esteem s'posed to increase with all the fakin'?"

"Hmm, yes. But I doubt they'll find exhibits."

"I think Kevin and Brittany could use some extra credit," Daria said in a voice dry as the Sahara.

"You're twisted." Jane shook her head wide-eyed.

"I can hide behind a corkscrew. But then, Brittany naked might not be good for everyone's self esteem," Daria said with gestures indicating Brittany's enormous assets.

"Tell me about it. The three of us do share PE," Jane replied a little disappointed, looking at her own chest.

Daria nodded, but missed Jane's point. "Even if **you** get your special training."

"Shut up, you accomplished that as well."

"I need to manage that to a regular basis."

Jane shrugged, but had nothing to follow up, so the girls walked in silence for a while.

Jane asked something that struck her as odd before, especially in connection with Daria's supposed self esteem issues. "Speaking of PE showers: You're not exactly shy."

Jane wasn't shy herself, but tried to limit her exposure a little. There was no need to show more than really necessary, especially in an environment that made comparison almost obligatory. Jane had adopted a 'don't judge me so I won't judge you' doctrine. She was well aware of her own imperfections, she didn't need anybody to point them out by staring, thank you.

"Why should anyone? All girls in there."  
_Or: All humans in there._

Daria's answer was not what Jane had expected. "Uh, that's awfully well adjusted for a teenager."  
_Especially a teenager like you with more potential body issues than a whole class of 'normal' kids._

Daria didn't answer immediately and regarded Jane musing what answer to give. The other girl was not stupid. "I had someone talk sense into me."

Jane simply nodded, and, to Daria's relief, refrained from asking further questions that wouldn't be answered anyway. The girls walked in silence the little remaining distance to the crossing they usually parted at.

* * *

Tiffany critically inspected her reflection in the mirror. Her makeup was up to the latest standard, the eye shadow well coordinated with the dress she wore. Her hair shone from many, many strokes with the brush and little barrettes were in place to stop her bangs from covering too much of her face.

Her glance fell on the stacks of books placed on her desk. It had taken her a long time to complete the homework to an acceptable level. The words were all difficult, and especially the long passages for her English class strained her. Math was simpler. There were clear rules, clear methods, and one had just to select according to the question. But arts and craft were her favorites. She loved creating things that pleased the eye.

To Tiffany, dressing was the ultimate art form. People were always dressed (well, almost), and hence this was an art that was applicable in every situation during your life. She knew she wasn't very smart, at least her daily struggle with her homework and her less than stellar grades told her that. But she was smart enough to work with the things she had at her disposal: her looks, and her ability to coordinate wardrobe.

Modelling was one thing she would try after high school - using her looks as long as she had them. But she wasn't too optimistic, the competition was hard, and Tiffany was not sure she would be able to build the cut-throat attitude that seemed necessary to succeed. After that - or if she didn't even get into the modelling business, she was planning to go into fashion. Maybe start retail and - given the chance and her good eye - work her way up to some wholesale position.

Or even run her own boutique. With her own selection, at her own pace, for customers that valued good quality and decent service. But a business degree seemed unobtainable, right now. Otherwise she would end up as a secretary that isemployed as eye candy, but not her abilities. Or a - *brrr* - call girl.

The door bell announced the arrival of her date. With a "I ammm on my wayy." Tiffany left her room in a hurry. She had no intended to give her mother another chance to rain her "Knock her up, marry her, elope - but get her out of the house!" rant on one of her dates. That gave them ideas.

* * *

The training that evening was held in the empty part of a warehouse. Stacks of flour and food cans, TV sets and motor oil sat on shelves in the background. A forklift sat in a corner attached to its charging station, the monitoring lights glowing like eerie eyes in the dark.

The members of the chapter provided training locations if possible. One member who worked at the office building cut a deal with the security guards to use the parking lot. The owner of the warehouse was a member himself, and glad to have people around in random intervals. 'Keeps out the bad guys', he said. The park was free, and Daria wondered what other locations would be announced.

Using varying real life locations for training was a principle. If one had to use any of the things learned during the training, one would neither be given the choice of location nor have some cozy gym mat to soften the fall. Realism was the paradigm, bruises and scratches the price one had to pay for a fall. Or a concussion, if one acted really stupid.

Daria had finally settled into the group. It had taken a while to find out sparring partners of equal skill and weight so everyone could train properly. She didn't mind the times DeeDee asked to spar with her - the male members were visibly relieved not to have to deal with 'distracting elements'. To Daria's surprise, nobody was seizing the opportunity to get close and personal with DeeDee.

_No lechers around._  
But another though left a bad aftertaste: no one had objections to spare with her.

* * *

Helen Morgendorffer was not pleased by the phone's ringing. She just got home, rather late after the dinner meeting with the partners, and had finally some time to relax - no court or client appointments on Saturday and Sunday. Right now, there was nothing that couldn't be postponed to tomorrow. The prepared plate in the fridge courtesy of Daria and Jake was a sweet gesture, but the restaurant had been good and the menu filling. With Jake and Daria being out Helen had really revelled in their new home's silence while enjoying some wine. She hadn't had any to accompany the dinner, since she wasn't willing to take a cab home.

It rang again. Helen contemplated ignoring the phone and simply continue with the half-finished glass of red wine. Maybe Quinn would pick the phone up. She was upstairs, "sorting something", as she had claimed when she had shortly came downstairs to greet her mother.

Another ring. Helen was unnerved as she picked up.  
"Morgendorffer."

"_Mrs. Morgendorffer? I'm Ms. Li, the principal of Lawndale High, and I'm calling regarding your daughter, Daria._"

"Daria? What has happened?!"

Invisible to Helen, Ms. Li rose an eyebrow. _So my hunch was right. She isn't as trouble free as the paperwork suggests._

"_No need to get excited, everything is in perfect order. Mrs. Morgendorffer, I am pleased to announce that your daughter has been selected to participate in an advanced education programme that will allow her to expand her existing skills, acquire new abilities and gain practical experience in leadership. But then, this is an opportunity to get exited about._"

"She has been?"  
_And why the heck do I not know about it?!!_

"_Yes. Beside her outstanding scholastic abilities, her athletic abilities and diligent character were noted by our physical education instructors. She was recommended as a candidate for our extracurricular activities that will allow her to gain valuable knowledge and experience for a successful future career._"

Helen was pleasantly surprised, but her 'bullshit' detector went off after about the fifth word.  
"OK, but could you please get to the point?"

Ms. Li had enough experience dealing with people to know when any attempts to lull someone were going to backfire tremendously. It was time for facts.  
"_Our teachers are confident that she would make a great gym instructor. We are offering her the opportunity to obtain an A level sports instructor certification in cooperation with the athletics department of Lawndale State and temporal responsibility over Lawndale High's gym afterwards to gain experience._"

"I doubt that being a gym instructor is among Daria's career choices."

"_Of course not, she's a brilliant student. But this isn't just about a technical skill in a limited, special area. This is about getting a head start - she could obtain a state-official certificate at such an early age. The potential!_"

"Hmm, that's right, that is an opportunity."

"_And think about the experience she can get while instructing - that is the start to develop that kind of leadership skills all employers are looking for. This is of course an extracurricular activity that would go on her school records. Think how that would look on her CV!_"

"Hmm, this would give her an excellent opportunity to get a little involved with school." Helen mentioned another thing that she had always been displeased about with Daria.

"_Combined with her scholastic abilities, this will make her the kind of 'high potential' student that every college just wants to have among its ranks! She'll be almost a shoe-in for some good scholarships later on._"

"That kind of opportunity doesn't knock twice. That is really good news, Ms. Li. I'll talk to Daria, and she will for sure accept your offer. I'm pleased to see that LHS offers opportunities beyond a regular education to its students."

"_Excellence in education is my, aeh, Lawndale High's goal, Mrs. Morgendorffer._"

* * *

Ms. Li put down the handset with a grin. "With that kind of an ally, it's a done deed without me lifting another finger. Even you will be another tiny, compliant wheel in **my** system, Daria."

Looking at the wall clock, she opened the bottom drawer of her desk and poured herself a glass of good brandy. Weekend. All that was left to do was check the storage facilities, the interrogation room, the security central, replace and archive the surveillance tapes, check the panic room including the armory, move some hidden microphones and cameras to slightly different locations, search some random lockers and the check content of the kitty in the teachers lounge.

Snifter in hand, she got up and left her office.  
"Let's have some fun."

* * *

Phil was a polite boy. Tiffany noted how he diligently opened every door for her, be it car or the family diner they had a snack at after the movie. He wasn't exactly Men's Health material, he didn't dress like a model, and Tiffany would catch hell from Sandi for dating below Fashion Club standards - and the same guy more than once. He wasn't even geek-smart to compensate, but neither was Tiffany. But he listened to her.

"There we are, Tiffany." Phil stopped the car two houses down from the Blum-Deckler home.

"Thanks, Phil." Tiffany checked which rooms were lit in her home. The kitchen was dark. Good. She opened the car's door and got out. "I hope your dad is either sober or not around once you get home."

"Me too. Steer clear of your mother."

"I will. Night."

"Night, Tiffany."

Tiffany closed the car's door and cautiously walked up to her home. Producing her key, she noiselessly opened the front door and stopped to listen. Just the TV in the living room. Good. Tiffany carefully closed the door behind herself and headed upstairs. No need for another confrontation with her mother.

Getting ready for bed, she wondered why the evening hadn't felt like any of her dates before. It hadn't felt like a date at all.

* * *

It took Helen a while to go back to relaxing since the phone call had left her with mixed emotions. First she had felt very proud that her oldest daughter had managed to draw positive attention within the first two weeks at a new school. That was nothing Helen would have expected by a long shot.

But then there was the fact that Helen had to learn about it from a phone call by the principal. Why hadn't Daria told her about it? And when was she planning to?

* * *

"...and she's always complaining about all the boys staring at her. Not just looking, that must be appreciated - you know what I mean - but staring like really creepy. I got that from time to time as well, and it's really scary. I would feel much better if she knew some more unarmed self defence, but she just doesn't want to bother. That's not a problem for you, is it?" DeeDee said with a slight grin.

Daria knew her cue. "No. The only stares I get are more like 'Shit, what's that supposed to be?!'"

"You're kiddin'?"

_Are you kidding?!_  
"DeeDee, you know what I look like. I neither fit 'normal' nor am I cheesecake material."

"But... ... Oh."

Daria let the silence drag on a little, but a glance to the side told her that DeeDee was feeling guilty for something she didn't do.  
"It's just something I have to accept — because it's not going to change. So it's kind of OK. Almost."

"I've always... It's just... something like this has never happened to me."

_Rub - it - in._  
"It could be worse, DeeDee. At least I'm active. Otherwise I'd be 60 bad pounds more."

"No!" Once again unbeknownst to Daria, a remark had hit a sensitive spot with DeeDee.

"A scary thought indeed. I'd be flabzilla." Daria continued jokingly.

"Daria, don't do that, that's sooohoooo wrong!"

"Don't worry, I'm vain enough to not let that happen."  
_And I like to stay healthy._

The rest of the trip back to Crewe Neck was filled with a discussion for diets (pushed by DeeDee) with sparse injections from Daria about the health issues involved in eating nothing but bran for four weeks.  
_That's so stupid. I need to hook up DeeDee and Quinn._

* * *

Jane sorted through her various artworks, and the piles 'sellable' and 'might be sellable, if you have no shame' for the art fair just wouldn't grow. She was considering to forage her mother's store for some pottery to add it to the goods. She was making up for **their** financial obligations, after all.  
_Hmm, Dad's cameras..._

"Janey?"

Trent's voice shook Jane from her musing.

"You're hunting for stuff to part from?"

"Yeah, but with limited success." Jane answered with a gesture at her goods. "How 'bout you?"

Trent sighed. "I got Spiral another gig at the Zon, but any early evening in the week is slow and pays little. Divided by five."

Jane was surprised that Trent had already started to address the matter, but was not going to complain.  
"It's a start, Trent."

Jane gestured at the collected goods. "Will you give me a lift? I won't get that, the easel, a folding table and chair to the park on my own."

"Sure."

Jane sat on her bed with a sigh. "Trent, I think we really need to work on this or we won't make it. We'll have to do some accounting."

Trent shuddered, but nodded. Accounting rated among his nightmares pretty much on top of the list, immediately behind being locked in at a book store.

"I'll do it, but you'll have to help with the inventory. I need an exact total of all the cash we have."

Trent nodded again. "I'll look."

"OK. Bring everything into the kitchen, we'll count there."

"Sure, Janey." Trent took his leave.

"And no discretionary funds on the side, Trent!"

Trent didn't look back, but the little twitch he gave told Jane that her suspicion had been right.

* * *

Daria slowed down her running pace as she approached the Morgendorffer home. She had been exhausted, but just walking home sweaty and getting cold seemed stupid; all of her clothes were good for the laundry anyway. Her father's car was still absent from the driveway, but her mother's SAV loomed on the far side.

Daria entered the house with a "I'm home." and was halfway to the stairs when her mother approached her.

"Hello Daria. Why haven't you told me the good news?"

Baffled, Daria halted. "Hey Mom. We haven't spoken since last evening, so... what news?"

Helen was a tad unnerved by Daria's casual lie. _If she was in the witness box, no one would notice a thing._  
"The gym job, Daria! That's important news. How are we supposed to support you if you withhold even the most important information from us?"

_Uh, weren't just NY and LA lawyers supposed to do drugs?_ "Mom? What 'gym job'?"  
Daria had the feeling that something big was coming for her, and that the question was not if she would be swallowed, but when and how.

That Daria was still denying her infuriated Helen, but with that accomplishment on the plus side, she was willing to cut Daria some slack.  
"Don't play dumb, Daria. Your principal called me and told me about it. That's something you should be proud of."

"Mom, I've no idea what you're talking about. Honestly."

"Have it your way, Daria, but you're going to do it anyway. An opportunity like this does not knock twice, and I will not stand by and watch you letting it pass."

Whatever it was, Daria was as sure that she wouldn't like it as she was sure that she wouldn't be given any choice. Her thoughts were racing, but she couldn't remember anything that could have given even a hint at what was up.  
"Mom, what 'gym job'? What 'opportunity'?"

Helen had to cool her temper down again. Even questioned directly, and knowing that Helen knew the facts, Daria kept up her lie. Daria's personal 'omerta'.  
"Fine, fine. Daria, suit yourself. You not telling me saves me from giving you an answer. But rest assured, Daria: I will see you doing this."

Daria had no idea what her mother was talking about, but her instincts told her that it was way smarter to lay low right now than to infuriate her any further. Whatever it was, it was good enough to stop her mother from immediately jumping at her throat, so it couldn't be so bad, could it?  
"Yes, Mom."

"OK. Now go take your shower. But that subject's not off the table." Helen said, pointing at Daria to underline her resolve, and returned to the living room.

Daria went upstairs, not knowing what mistake she had made, but glad to get away.

* * *

At the table in the Lane's kitchen, Jane sat with an old, but empty notebook she had found in Penny's room and tried to arrange a large amount of positions into a sensible order.  
"Damn! Why do the numbers hate us Lanes?!"

It took a while, but in the end Jane managed. And didn't like the outcome one bit. Then she started to shuffle numbers to arrive at a more favorable result, but they were only able to spend every dollar just once. She finally ran out of ideas.

Trent found Jane staring at a notebook and doodling in the margins when he entered the kitchen with his loot. Several stacks of coins framed by some bills sat on the desk.

"Hi Janey. That's good money there." Trent said as he sat down and started to build a stack of his own.

"Kind of, Trent. But the math puts things into perspective. A bad perspective."

Trent looked up. "Naa, can't be that bad."

"Trent, we're already three months late with the mortgage and the bank is not happy. Not at all, Trent. I assume you have not read these letters?" Jane pointed at some papers of fine stationary on the kitchen table.

Trent shrugged. "No."

"Including late fees, interest, taxes, and the next monthly mortgage rate we have almost a two grand payment coming up in four weeks. That's not including the utilities bill. I like to shower, Trent. Warm. And we're behind on the property tax as well. If we don't pay that we're in deep doo-doo."

"Oh."

"'Oh' all right. Trent, that's total of roundabout two and a half grand. I've collected a little less than eight hundred bucks putting all ethics aside. Assuming you came up with the same, we're short a grand that we have to come up with in a month's time."

"Between the two of us: no problem. All ethics aside?" Trent tried to spread some upbeat vibes.

"I've swept all cash I've found in Summer's, Wind's, and my room. Including the piggy bank mom had set up for her grandchildren. I went through all drawers and closets and learned a **lot** of things that I'd rather have not."

"Uh. Yeah." Trent agreed. His older sister's lingerie (high school era) drawer was a place that could not be unseen.

"I kept record how much came from which room, so we can repay 'em, though. You too?"

Trent stood up, put some cash from his left and right pants pockets into two more piles on the table, and sat down again. "Yeah. Kind of. As soon as I remember if the right was Penny's or my room."

Jane rolled her eyes. "Trent, and for the record: we will have to eat and pay utilities the next four weeks. We'll have to cover the living expenses on top of that grand. And that'll be another grand - if we stretch things."

"Darn."

"I've to attend school and can not afford to draw too much attention to myself by letting my grades nose-dive. So I won't be able to work full-time. And face it, Trent, within four weeks time you will not manage to find a full-time job."

Trent felt a twang of guilt, but couldn't tell exactly why. "Guess not."

"And it's two weeks after the mortgage until Dad'll be back. We'll have to think about that time as well or it'll be stone soup day-in-day-out."

That gave Trent the incentive to bring something up that he'd rather left unknown to Jane. He reached behind himself and pulled a zip-lock bag out of his trousers' waistband. Carefully, he sat it on the table.  
"Found that in Penny's room. Under a floorboard in her closet."

Jane was impressed, but not really surprised. "I assume that is what I think it is."

Trent just nodded.

Jane paused a moment and drew a breath. "OK. This is an emergency. Food first - then ethics. Trent, will we be able to turn this into cash? And: how much cash?"

Trent was relieved that Jane had no idea what the going rate for weed by the ounce was, but knew that 'we' would mean 'him'. The list of principles that selling the bag would break was really long. Trent picked the bag up again and weighed it in his hand.  
"Depends on the growing and how old this is. Two hundred, three hundred bucks. Maybe."

Jane looked Trent straight in the eyes. "Will you be able to sell it without ending in jail for trafficking? Honestly, Trent."

Queasy, Trent nodded again. _Do what must be done._

"OK. Put it away. That'll be the means of the last resort if we really can't make it otherwise. And, hell, that'll not go on the records." Jane said and pointed at the notebook.

"Better not." Trent agreed.

The siblings counted the cash they had collected, had it accounted by 'donor', and tallied up. After the easy part came a long discussion about the living expenses.

* * *

Daria sat on her bed, brooding. After her shower she hadn't bothered to don anything beyond her bathrobe, and while the long, hot shower refreshed her body, it did not soothe her mind. But the coolness of her room wasn't helping either. With the more trouble dumped on her, Daria felt like getting away from everything once again. Frustrated, Daria dropped back onto her bed.

After some unknown time had passed, there was aknock on her door and her father entered without waiting for an answer.

"Daria... GAH!! Uh, would you mind closing your bathrobe completely, kiddo?" Jake said, intently monitoring the Kafka poster on the wall for any sudden changes.

Daria did so while she sat upright again. _Kiddo my ass._  
"Hey Dad. The 'Meeting' is over?"

"Yes, came home some time ago." Jake glanced over, and faced his daughter again once he had verified that nothing could be seen that shouldn't be. "The meeting was interesting. I'm meeting people from a lot of different types of business there. Some successful, others less."

_Translates: I didn't win or lose any significant amount of money._  
"Sound's good. That'll bring clients?"

"Time will tell. At least I'm making contacts and get my business cards in circulation. But Daria, your mom's told me about the good news from school. That's really great, Daria! But you really should have told her. You know your mom hates it when she isn't properly informed." Jake started the topic that had led him to his daughter's room.

Daria tried to use this situation to learn what she had been supposed to tell her parents, but had no clue about. "Uh, Dad, about that..."

"Hey, you'll get a qualification for something you've been doing just for fun..." Jake was on a roll. Seeing his children flourish and succeed was bliss.

"Dad, I have no clue what you and mom are talking about. All I know is 'gym job', 'principal', and 'opportunity'."

"A hell of an opportunity!" Jake shook his fist at this victory.

Daria spoke up to get through to Major Jake.  
"DAD. Would you tell me what THE HECK that whole fuzz is about! I HAVE NO IDEA! And it kind of involves ME! I'd really like to KNOW."

Daria's loud - and obviously not amused - voice stopped Jake. "What do you not know?"

_Finally._ "Nothing. Everything. I do not have the slightest idea what this is about except that it involves the principal calling mom. So please."

"Uh, well, the principal called mom this evening and told her that you've been..."

* * *

Trent and Jane had finished the accounting, and the outlook was dire. Without any additional income the mortgage could not be paid. And even with additional income it would be a tight fit - unless one took jobs like prostitution ("NO JANEY!") or assassination ("NO TRENT, NO!") into consideration. But if they didn't try they didn't have a chance to begin with.

The money went into the stuck drawer in the kitchen table, including the accounting book. Any deposit or withdrawal would be recorded in amount and person. With their current situation, Jane had enough confidence in Trent to stick to these rules.

Jane got up and started the water kettle. No more soda for the next six weeks, and food would be shopped by nutritional value per buck. Giving up coffee would be a challenge. _Yuk. I might end up living healthy._

Jane remembered Daria's parting words again, shook her head but couldn't help but grin. _Circle jerk._

The change in Jane didn't go past Trent. "What's making you smile, Janey." His sister could use any kind of cheering up in a situation like this.

"I remembered something Daria said. You remember, the new girl I mistook for a boy?"

Trent rose an eyebrow and nodded. Janey mentioning any classmate was unusual. Janey mentioning a classmate more than once was really significant. And this... maybe his sister wasn't all honest to herself.

"She's wicked. Honest, down-to-earth. You would like her."  
An obvious idea formed in Jane's mind.

* * *

"Let me recap: They want me to take some instructor's exam and take a part-time staff position at LHS and make me the ass of my classmates' jokes to slave at minimum wage at the gym in the wee hours?"

"Daria. That's the worst case."

"No. I could get infected with 'Variola major'."

"OK, but then this would be the last of your problems. Think positive. Staff parking!"

Daria did perk up at the hidden promise.  
"For my boots or the bike I don't have?"

"C'mon. Your birthday isn't long off, and I'm pretty confident that you'll quickly pass the practical."

Daria knew that thoughts running in circles were getting her nowhere. There was nothing that could be done until Monday, anyway.  
"I need to get the full story before I worry about that. I guess the pawns in the game will be informed coming Monday. I could use a tea, let's continue downstairs, Dad."

Jake agreed, and Daria got up, carefully keeping her modesty intact and her father's embarrassment at minimum level.

On the way downstairs, Jake voiced a thought that had bothered Daria all through the entire affair.  
"You know, it really is odd that you haven't been informed first. There must have been some misunderstanding."

Before entering the kitchen, Daria spotted her mother relaxing in the living room in front of the TV that played some old movie. The two used wine glasses on the table told Daria that her father had came back while she took her shower. In the kitchen her father was putting some ice cubes in two drinks sitting on the counter before him.

Daria filled the electric kettle with water, started it, and looked for the tea she had her mind set on.  
"If it happens, it will eat up a lot of my time."

Jake turned his head, glanced over, and concentrated on the drinks again.  
"That's something honest jobs do. Think of it: You'll be making your own money."

Daria lightened up a little. The money issue hadn't come up with her mother, but until now she was sure that her paycheck would vanish into some obscure college fund and never be seen again.  
"**My** own money?"

"Your **own** money."

"I'll call you on that one, dad. For sure."

"No problem. I'm proud of you." Jake said as he picked the drinks up and started to head back into the living room.

"Dad?" Daria stopped him, a bag of the tea in hand.

"What is it, Daria?" Jake said, turning back again.

"Do you think we could go on a fishing trip this coming weekend like we used to? Saturday afternoon 'till Sunday lunch? Somewhere tranquil? This week was already getting to me, but this is the icing on the cake."

Jake immediately liked the idea for its own sake, but he did not miss the pleading subtone in Daria's voice.  
"Hmm, I don't know, kiddo. I have no idea about a suitable spot in the vicinity. But we haven't been fishing in a long time..."

_Kiddo my ass._  
"Couldn't you ask around among your business contacts? They can't be all part of the golf crowd."

Daria filled the now hot water in the mug with the tea bag that she had prepared.

"I can't make any promises, but I'll ask. But if I can locate a spot, I promise you to make the time. I don't know about your mother, though." Jake pointed towards the living room.

"Thanks. I'll ask mom when you know. No point in bothering her now."  
_She's not going to come anyway. Thank god, 'mom' and 'tranquil' just don't go together._

Daria made a head gesture towards the living room. "Mom's pretty busy at her new firm."

"I noticed. I hope that'll blow over."

Daria heard her father's dismay at that fact as they headed together towards the living room. "I hope so, too."

Once they were at the door, Daria spoke up again. "Mom? I'm going to bed. Good night."

"Hmm, Daria, good night." her mother said, too relaxed to bother turning her head.

"'night Daria."

"'night Dad."

Back in her room she opened the window a minute and started to sip the tea before she hit the hay. Her diaries could wait for tomorrow.


	13. Chapter 13 Still got the Blues

**Size does matter - Chapter 13**

**by HawkingRadiation**  
(aka BlackHole at PPMB,SFMB)

Story (c) 2008 by HawkingRadiation  
Daria and associated characters are (c) 2009 MTV Networks

* * *

**Still got the blues**

Daria woke much too early for her taste. First rays of the autumn sun were trying to penetrate the barricade formed by her room's curtains. She stayed in bed and listened to the sounds of the house. She wasn't in the mood for human contact today, especially not with her mother. She saw two options: Pull a Quinn and stay in bed until noon, or get up early - like right now. Sleeping in would mean battling with Quinn for the shower. And she was awake anyway, so the decision was easy.

* * *

Daria had taken the scenic route to the mall, resulting in a ninety minute walk through empty streets on a bright but chilly morning. The sun's warmth and the dew on the lawn filled the park with a cold mist that clung to the trees. The park and the streets were empty. Every sane person was still in bed, or at least at home, and Daria was not passing the parts of the town that would spot people going home at this time of the day.

Daria had made it through her morning ritual and out of the house without any other Morgendorffer around. Only a note at the fridge ("Have gone shopping and exploring, back after noon. Daria") and a fresh jar of coffee sitting on the hotplate was all that would indicate her absence.

It was still half an hour until the mall opened, but the cold had finally made it through her new jacket. Daria walked to the roadside diner between the mall and the 'Seven Corners' junction. With the police car in front of the shabby building, the location matched every clich.

Inside Daria got a coffee and a donut, was pleasantly surprised that they had a public paper, and settled into one booth. Alternately reading the paper and watching the street, Daria made her way through three cups of coffee served by an irritated but friendly waitress.

* * *

Getting a new cable distributor from the TV-Hut franchise in the mall took hardly any time. Right after opening, no customers were around, and the staff could still be seen cleaning and restocking the shelves.

The mall provided little of interest to Daria. The book store was tiny with only mainstream literature in stock. Mail ordering via the 'net from Zamahon was just so easy, fast and reasonably cheap. The splitter in her backpack, Daria walked off towards Dega street, the 'alternative' end of town, as she had learned at school during the week before.

She walked at a slow, but steady pace. Today it wouldn't matter how long the walk took. Daria wanted to see and experience what the town was like. Later, if she just needed to get from A to B, she would retrieve her bike from the depths of the garage, or maybe even have car privileges, should she ever pass the test.

* * *

The neighbourhood around Dega street was indeed alternative. The houses had seen better times, designed approximately sixty years ago. This might have been Lawndale's main street some decades ago, but right now, the predominant facet of houses, cars, residents, and patrons was the absence of conformity. Graffiti seemed an acceptable paint job, people wore the clothes they felt like, with the cold making sure they did at all. And the streets were likely cleaned once the cockroaches approached the size of a doberman.

Before noon was early in the day for the locals. Some restaurants and pubs could be seen closed for cleaning, the stores featured light business, but all places offering breakfast were packed. Passing a coffee store, Daria was sure that most of the patrons were there to eat breakfast before going to bed - not after getting up.

"Ay mate, lookin' for some new ink? Or some more holes? We've two-for-one special this month."

The owner of a tattoo/piercing parlor addressed Daria through the open door from that counter, likely since she had slowed down a little to look at the designs.  
_Hail Lord British!_ "Hmmm, I could get my nipples pierced."

"Uncool, mate. Nose ring, a lip stud. And yer ears could use some more holes."

_Ah, shit, here we go again. But I had to start the shit. Me and my big mouth._  
"I'd rather stick with the nipples." Daria said, her gaze turned downwards.

"That's cool for gals, bu... oh." Axl became aware of his tiny misconception and his eyes grew a little wider once he understood what gender he was looking at.

"But I doubt my parents will give me the permission." Given the situation, Daria tried at least to milk some fun out of it, and the proprietor's baffled face provided plenty, as she hinted at her age - or more the lack thereof.

Daria continued her journey, and stopped at a second hand/vintage clothing store. The store window featured clothing that was either incredibly retro or incredibly hip, but they had also 'normal' clothing. Daria made a mental note to have a closer look around here in case she needed some new clothes.  
_Given the current temperature, I'm not prepared for the winter. Friggin' cold._

Daria continued her journey passing pubs, clubs, antique stores, a shop that sold hippy memorabilia (_Right, just and only that._), some liquor stores, a bowling alley, some arts-and-crafts suppliers, a printshop, and some burger and other fast food joints. Funny though, none of the large franchises.

A gallery and a repertory cinema catered for the cultural needs, much to Daria's liking. A Laundromat, some convenience stores, and an 'All Organic produce Paradise' completed the infrastructure. When the shopping district morphed into a residential area, Daria left the street into the general direction of her home, and school.

In a pizza parlor, just a little away from LHS as she later found out, Daria stopped and picked up two slices for lunch. She sat in a corner booth, with the intention to observe the other patrons, but two hours after opening on a Saturday, there weren't any. Just the phone rang every now and then, likely with orders, as every call caused activity in the kitchen. The radio played the local station softly in the background, with wacky DJs interrupting the music with their antics from time to time.

The delivery boy, a short, lanky guy with an acne problem and a haunted expression showed up every now and then, picked up some boxes, and set off on his scooter again. A single customer walked in, ordered, and boredly watched the chef putting the pizza together. After paying and picking up his box, he vanished in his pickup.

Daria's slices were OK - after she poured off the superfluous fat. The prices were reasonable, promoting the pizzeria to a may-visit-again slot on Daria's list. Daria enjoyed the relative calm of the restaurant and slowly emptied the soda she had gotten.

_Hmm. Nipple piercings?_

* * *

Brittany watched the caller ID on her ringing phone with disdain, rejected the call, and silencedthe phone. Kevin - but they were not on speaking terms anymore. After the game and a six pack of beer, Kevin had had - once again - issues with words and sentences.  
_And 'NO!' is not a difficult sentence, is it?_

Walking towards the kitchen, Brittany shortly thought about silencing the house phone as well, but immediately discarded the idea. Kevin would not risk Ashley-Amber picking up the phone, since her step-mother had a strong disliking for Kevin. Something that made Brittany a little sad.

Luckily she hadn't drunk last evening, so she was able to drive a drunk and dizzy Kevin, as well as herself, home. Right now, she didn't know or care how he made it from the sidewalk where she kicked him out of his Jeep into the house. But maybe that slap she gave him before had been a little hard. Anyway, he would know where to pick his car up again, so no point in speaking with him.

Her step-mother and brother could be heard arguing from the kitchen. "But dad says boys need to be dirty!"

"Dad isn't here and I say they need to clean up as well! Make all the mess you want, Brian, but you do your share to clean it up!"

Brittany entered the kitchen and immediately saw what this was all about. Her younger brother sat at the table and faced off his step-mother, who was standing on the other side, arms akimbo. The wet sponge on her step-mother's side and an ample amount of soggy cornflakes spreading around Brian's bowl told the story.

"Morning."  
Not in the mood for an extended argument, Brittany walked over, picked up bowl, spoon, and place mat, and took it over to the kitchen sink. "Look, Brian, everyone's doing a little share and we're done in no time."

"Morning Brittany," Ashley-Amber greeted a little icily as she shot a glance at Brittany, but then joined in and cleaned her side of the table. After Brittany operated the dishwasher and cleaned the place mat, most of the table was clean, but Brian sat there, pouting, without any indication to complete the task.

"Brian," Ashley-Amber addressed her son, who pointedly looked the other way. "Your sister did already help. Without being asked."

"But she's a girl! Cleaning up is for girls!"

"And seeing how Brittany beats you at every game, I guess video games are for girls, too. Maybe the new console should go to your sister, after all."

That not-so-subtle threat got Brian moving. He sloppily cleaned the flakes from the table, threw the sponge into the sink and shot from the room - not without sticking his tongue out at Brittany in parting. Ashley-Amber sighed, picked up the sponge, cleaned the table properly, and removed the splashes of water that Brian had created throwing the sponge.  
"What a brat. I hope that's temporary."

"It's his age," Brittany answered with her head in the fridge, scanning the selection of yoghurts.

Despite her frustration at parenting her step-son, Ashley-Amber didn't miss that. "OK Brittany - what's up with you?"

"Uh, nothing, Ashley-Amber," Brittany was surprised at her step-mom's sudden shift in focus.

"You've been helping and defending your brother. Out with it!"

"Really nothing." Brittany made big puppy eyes at Ashley-Amber and twirled her hair.

"That doesn't seem like nothing to me," Ashley-Amber said softly, clearly seeing through her step-daughter's act. _Girls are sooo much easier._

"Kevin and I had a fight last night..."

If Ashley-Amber knew a thing, it was how to mend broken hearts. "Oh honey, that's terrible, tell me everything about it..."

* * *

Quinn stood in her closet and surveyed her wardrobe, as little as there was. There was her everyday clothing, which was reasonably fashionable and could be combined extremely well, allowing a little more than thirty different outfits. All nice, but for a date she would prefer something nicer.

Then there were her few upscale clothes she scored at some previous jobs. With her size, the clothes used for modelling weren't sellable, and she managed to get some designer outfits at a highly competitive price. But those were not something she would wear at a casual date, especially not on a first date. She was not planning to look too eager. But they were soooo nice.

Quinn put the dress back on the rack again, skipped her functional clothes - sports, winter, lazing - back to her everyday clothes again. Those would have to do. _OK, but what combination. Pants. Not too tight, not too loose, so that's either this or that. Blouse? Nah, would need a cardigan at those temperatures. Sweater..._

* * *

"McKenzie residence, Michael speaking."

"_Hi Mack. You guys won last night's game? Congrats._"

"Jodie! Nice to hear a sane voice. We did, indeed. Not stellar, but solid."

"_The coach and Miss Li must be pleased._"

"Right, especially since Kevin managed not to injure himself in some completely unnecessary performance to impress some of the Jefferson's cheerleaders," Mack answered with a chuckle.

"_He better not with Brittany on his back. Sorry I couldn't make it, but my parents were at some social event and I had to sit Rachel and Evan._"

"Don't sweat it, you didn't miss much. Beside me, of course."

"_You're so full of yourself, Mack_" Jodie answered jokingly.

"I tell ya. I'm so full of my own crap... It was unfortunate I had to play. Otherwise I wouldn't have minded keeping you company."

"_My parents would have a cow of the size of Texas._"

"Sounds amusing. Let's invest in a dairy."

Jodie laughed. "_Mack, do you want so bad to be the first black man on the moon? Because that's where my Dad's going to kick you to._"

"I wouldn't mind that, but you'd be in a real pinch. Your parents would start to drag you to those social events - and have you sit your sibling there."

"_Damn._"

"But all honest, I wouldn't mind an evening playing Old Maid with you and Rachel."

"_You would voluntarily put up with my bratty sister and Mr Stinky-Diapers?_"

"For an otherwise relaxed evening with you, yes, I would."

* * *

Quinn found her mother in the kitchen when she went to get herself some juice. On a plate in front of her mother were some leftovers from the fridge serving as a snack. There was no real lunch scheduled on a Saturday for the Morgendorffer family. Not that Quinn was missing lunch, with her having had breakfast just two hours ago.

Quinn seized the opportunity and took a seat at the table beside her mother.  
"Leftovers for lunch?"

"Yes. Believe it or not, there are people who get up before noon on a Saturday," Helen answered, her indignation thick in her voice.

"I'm entitled to stay in bed. It's the privilege of irresponsible children."

Helen chuckled wistfully at that remark and spoke more to herself than to her daughter. "You have no idea how true that is."  
The ensuing silence was interrupted by the sound of the front door being unlocked. "I bet that's Daria."

"I'm already dressed and did some serious work: I've prepared an outfit for my date tonight."

"I'm sure that is a marketable skill that will pay the bills later on. Hi Mom, Quinn," Daria said as she entered the kitchen as well. _Maybe if you toss in some horizontal mambo._

"Daria." Helen welcomed and warned her eldest daughter at the same time.

"I know how to dress appropriately, and no one will be able to take that skill away."

"Not without brain surgery." Daria admitted, and started the water boiler in order to make some tea to warm her up.

"You got everything you wanted," Helen asked between some bites.

"I did, I'll fix the cable more or less right away."

"That's nice. You'll be home for dinner tonight?"

"I haven't any plans."

"Don't bother asking, mom, Daria's never had any plans beside sports, and maybe movies, theatre, or a museum once every blue moon."

Helen saw what Quinn couldn't: Daria was not pleased. "Quinn. Maybe we can have dinner together with Jake, Daria, after we see Quinn off."

"I 'spose," Daria answered with a non-committing shrug. Seeing off Quinn could be a source for some serious entertainment, depending on how much her parents would embarrass her. Or for some additional amusement, depending if she felt like joining in. And right now, Daria really felt like it.

"Uh, my date. Mom, I was preparing my outfit for tonight, and I was thinking I'm really really short of nice clothes. You know, nicer than my normal clothes, but not so fancy like the designer pieces. For dressing a little up, but not all the way. And since Christmas is coming up, I thought maybe I could get some clothing budget in advance so I have something nice to wear on Christmas and New Year's, because it takes so long to find something stylish in my size, and..."

"Quinn, slow down. You know that buying you clothes is nothing but a waste of money as long as you're still growing."

"I hear the Salvation Army..." Daria started, but the glare from her mother told her to choose her words wisely, "...is looking for donations, so it wouldn't be a complete waste."

Helen rolled her eyes. _Smart save, but..._

"But mom, that would be great value. Some nice-but-not-too-nice pieces could be worn as well as an addition to my usual clothing as well as be combined with the 'good clothes', so it would be really practical and a great addition to my wardrobe."

"That's right, but still you wouldn't be wearing them more than a few times. Quinn, I know you hate it, but you need to bear with your limited wardrobe a while longer. As soon as the doctors say you're full-grown, we can discuss that in earnest."

"There's still the chance that my little sister will finally grow up. you think you'll make it past the 6'6 mark?"

Quinn turned her head and spoke in earnest as one of her greatest fears was invoked. "Daria, that is **NOT** a tiny little bit funny!"

"Neither 'tiny' nor 'little'. Tell me about it," Daria responded in a morose manner.

_At least you've stopped growing, and are smaller than I am. Smart ass._ Quinn was unhappy despite Daria's honest answer.

Helen tried to give Quinn something to look forward to. "Quinn. You've another exam scheduled before Christmas. If the doctors say it's over - or almost over - we'll think about it. We'll have to do a trip to some place that carries your size anyway."

"Yeah. If."

"Hmm, I need to look up the size of the world's tallest woman in the Guinness Book of Records to see how much more you have to grow to qualify. You'll be famous!"

"Daria, stop teasing Quinn! And keep in mind, when that happens, you'll go with us. You need some more formal clothes."

Daria was smart enough to know when to shut up and just nod.

* * *

Quinn surveyed her handiwork once again in the mirror. Make-up, little enough not to draw the eye, but enough to cover what ever little blemishes there were and simply enhance her general appearance. _Freckles. The curse of all red heads._

Daria was so lucky with her darker type. With her low maintenance attitude, she would look like a scarecrow if she'd been of Quinn's type. But Quinn didn't grudge Daria that and smiled, pleased, in the mirror. _I'm a red head, and not by the bottle. I am rare._

* * *

Sandi looked in the mirror and found her makeup in perfect condition; her wardrobe was carefully selected, it brought out her figure and hid the shortcomings she didn't have. She was ready for the date she didn't have.

It had taken her a while to come up with a viable solution. Her mother finding out that her date stood her up - on a Saturday - was a bad idea. The tirade about her being a 'good-for-nothing loser that can't even manage the simplest things in life' that would follow up would not be pleasant. This might even result in her car keys being revoked.

Jacket, keys, wallet, and cell phone. Sandi picked up what she required and headed downstairs. Luckily, her brat brothers sat in front of the large TV in the living room and were too engrossed in whatever they were watching to bother her.

"I'm off to my date, mom," Sandi lied with ease and without any hint of guilt.

"Remember your curfew, and don't make any dents in the car."  
Linda sat at the table, some files and a glass of what looked a lot like whiskey straight around her.

"Yes mother."  
Sandi had no interest in any further 'conversation', with her mother threatening, scolding, and indoctrinating her and her saying 'yes' knowing that any other answer was a wrong answer. She left the house without looking back. It would be a good day when she would do so the final time.

Sandi closed the top of the car, started the engine, and pulled out of the drive way. She had no idea where to go to idle away at least three or four hours, but she had a long list of places where she could not be seen in mind - all the places that were suitable for a date.

* * *

Jamie White got out of his father's car at the address that Quinn had given to him. At 1111 Glen Oaks, a red well-maintained upscale house met him. The front yard was simple and bare of any ornaments.  
_They've moved in barely two weeks ago. Not much time for extensive decorations._

He waved his father goodbye and approached the door, further investigating his surroundings. Her parents wanted to meet him prior to the date; any information about them could be vital. Most windows were lit, several people were milling around. He would be the short-handed party.

The cars sitting in the drive way were upscale as well. Quinn's parents weren't rich, but doing well. He frowned at the implications. No matter what, Quinn was a girl with expectations. With her looks, she had every reason to be selective.

Mentally he ticked his checklist off again. Properly dressed. Clean, not overly formal, but no everyday clothes. The good wristwatch. Wallet, emptied of superfluous coins and restocked with ten dollar bills from the piggy bank. Hair well kempt. Hands clean, nails done recently. Shoes polished, matching socks (to the shoes and as a pair). Teeth brushed and no bad breath. A real handkerchief, no tissue. Cell phone, switched to silent alarm. Some mints. A plan for the evening suitable for a first date.

Everything was there. As ready as he would ever be, he pressed the doorbell beside the 'Morgendorffer' nameplate.

* * *

Daria was busy in the kitchen, preparing a sandwich for dinner when the doorbell rang. Knowing that everyone else was further away from the front door, she went to open up. On the way she used the dish towel hanging over her shoulder to dry her hands and the knife she was still holding.

* * *

Her escape had taken Sandi away from Lawndale. Any distance between her and the popular date hangouts reduced the probability of being seen alone. The high school gossip network was surprisingly fast and thorough. Arriving at Oakwood, she still avoided what she suspected to be popular spots. The sport teams mingled, and news might travel.

Sadly, that ruled out the entire 'down town' district, the malls, and even the clubs and bars in the seedier end of town. Sandi aimlessly cruised through the streets with some music on the radio, bored and brooding. This was not her idea how to spend a Saturday night.

Nearing the outskirts of town, a simple weathered sign pointing into a dead-end road made her stop. She pondered the idea for a second, it was utterly absurd for her to be here. But then, for everyone else who might know her. She set the turning light and steered her car to the parking lot at the end of the road.

Only two more cars beside hers were there, dimly lit from the little reddish lighting illuminating the building's entrance. Uneasy at the setting, but sure that nobody knowing her would see her, she walked over and entered. The bored receptionist, who looked old as the stars, looked up from the magazine he was reading, looked her over and then smiled silently at her.

Sandi checked the timetable and the rates. Just ten minutes to go. She handed the receptionist five bucks.

"Got ID?"

Wordlessly Sandi produced her driving license, and after a quick glance the receptionist handed her the ticket.  
_I can't believe I'm doing this._

* * *

The cruiser glided through the tween space, the engine power little above idle. From the real space, the stars could be seen whooshing by at aprohibitive speed beyond the fog of the tween, providing a colorful animated wallpaper. Captain Griffin gently turned up the speaker. The white noise generated by the tween always seemed to carry a calming melody to her.

The ship's alert shook her from her nap. "Pilot, silence the alert. Status report."

"There has been a disruption in the flight due to an external event. We have dropped out of the tween brane. All systems operational, gravo dim store at seventy two percent capacity," the ship's AI smooth synthetic voice informed her.

The noise of the tween had been replaced by space static that carried a low, but haunting tune. The optical monitor showed a strange planet with a rare ring system, giving it a unique beauty. Sandi didn't bother to check the long range stellar scan, without the AI's database that had no meaning to her.  
"Run a full scan of the environment. Conduct extended self-check. Secure logs for later analysis. Determine current position."

"Extended logging activated. Self-diagnosis in progress."

Sandi used the time that those processes took and had a look around the solar system she had been stranded in using the optical monitor. A boring G2 star with some planets, luckily not inside some nebula. Some gas giants, some normal rock with a large astroid belt in between.

"Luckily I didn't end up in there."

The third might even be able to sustain life. Sandi's suit restructured from its life-support hardshell mode and retracted the helmet. In its skin tight casual form Sandi liked it much better.  
_At least you have full configurability in normal mode. Changing clothes with just a command is bliss._

"Self-diagnosis complete. All systems operational, but achievable performance only between thirty and ninety percent of the nominal performance. Repair in progress."

Sandi became worried. The incident had damaged the cruiser somehow.  
_Damn. The salesman said 'maintenance free and self-repairing', and I paid big bucks. I'm gonna sue!_

"Energy, propulsion system - ah, shit, are we going to get moving again? Full communications scan."

"Maneuverability and speed one hundred percent in real space; maneuverability in tween brane one hundred percent, speed in tween brane sixty three percent. Given the last known position, travel to the set destination is possible and we will arrive approximately two hours later than predicted."

Sandi was glad that the AI answered her most pressing question on its own. Real space maneuverability was important, but wouldn't get her anywhere. Space was friggin' huge. It was a big relief that she would get going via tween space on her own again. But 'last known position'?  
"Anything out there?"

"No detectable short or long range communication. Shall I engage the emergency beacon?"

Again, the AI reacted to the low key vibe of anxiety in her voice - and likely to the data her suit's bio monitor provided.  
"No, we're able to go home, so that's what we'll do."

"There is significant solar activity originating from the star, it's undergoing a period of increased activity. Massive flares cause disturbance in the entire electromagnetic spectrum."

The AI but a sonic rendition of the radiation emitted by the star on the speakers along with the information. Sandi knew this was another attempt by the AI to distract her from her worries. And she had to admit, it was working.  
"What about that position?"

"Current position: unknown, at Alpha minus .752E-10."

"Alpha?" Sandi remembered that this had been mentioned during her lessons, but since that was 'you will never need it' material, she had promptly forgot it after taking the exam.

The AI was clever enough to put it in simple words, but couldn't do much to soften the blow.  
"A dimensionless value combining all major physical constants. The current value does not match the expected value. This is not our universe of origin."

Sandi blinked, not entirely aware of the full impact of this fact.  
"Gee. So what, how long will it take to get home?"

"Infinite time. The tween drive is not designed to maneuver... Alert! Incomin..."

Sandi fainted. One could not tell if it was due to the revealed ETA, or whatever shook the cruiser to its core afterwards. The suit returning to its life-support mode and the seat powering inertial compensation to the maximum kept her alive and seated.

* * *

His rehearsed address to the parent opening the door stuck in Jamie's throat once he saw the person letting him in. The she-male from the gym, a knife in her hands and a slight grin on her face. Suddenly, certain puzzle pieces fell into place - and he scolded himself for not noticing earlier. The two tall girls transferring into the school on the same day had to be siblings, despite their tremendous difference in build.  
_Dear Lord, let there be no big brother to top that._

Daria was amused by the blank look on Jamie's face. This was going to be fun. She turned and called for her sister. "Quinn! Your date is here."

Jamie suddenly remembered how stupid she had made him look in the gym as he had tried to fool her. The girl, Dar-something, had she told Quinn about his scheme, and how she had made it backfire? Had Quinn already gotten the fact that his new nickname involved a certain supplement advertised by a multitude of unsolicited commercial mail by dubious companies? Was he already the same laughing stock as with his team mates?

"This should bring in Mom and Dad as well. This way's the tort..., aeh, interrog..., aeh, living room," Daria said in carefully selected words to the obviously already shell shocked boy.

After noticing that he was spacing out, Jamie followed her gesture to come in, carefully keeping an eye on the knife in her hand. Her words were not exactly calming him down.

Given the size of Quinn and her, now obvious to Jamie, sister, he was not keen on meeting their parents. He had not exactly a hard time imagining what mother and father had to look like. He would have to be very careful and on his best behavior, if he wasn't planning to end up as canned meat, stored in the basement for hard days.

Under Daria's watchful eyes, Jamie sat down on a couch in the living room. He inspected his surroundings for further clues he could use in the upcoming conversation. Unfortunately, the room gave little away, with being set up just two weeks ago. On a side board sat several family pictures, but Jamie was not comfortable getting up and having a closer look at them with the girl around.

She stood in the doorway towards what seemed to be the kitchen, and she really filled the doorframe. She made no move to enter the kitchen, but watched him with a neutral expression. Jamie didn't dare to start a conversation. Jamie heard movement on the staircase. The show was about to begin.  
_Don't mess this up, boy._

* * *

Jamie felt very relieved when a woman, likely Mrs. Morgendorffer, of normal size entered the room. She was followed by Quinn, and Mr Morgendorffer, who was of normal proportions as well. Jamie intentionally skipped taking a closer look at Quinn so he would not be tempted to stare. He got up from the couch.  
"Mrs. Morgendorffer, Mr Morgendorffer, I'm Jamie. Hi Quinn."

Both parents shook the hand he offered with "Welcome, Jamie" but did not move to sit down.

"This won't take long, Jamie. It's just that we like to see with whom our daughter is going out. You're from Quinn's grade," Mr Morgendorffer asked in a friendly tone. Mrs Morgendorffer just looked at him with a friendly face, but her alert eyes told Jamie that she was inspecting him **very** closely.

"Yes, we share homeroom and some classes."

"Ok, so you're the same age as Quinn, and you know how your parents worry about you. We worry the same way 'bout Quinn. Go out, have fun, but make sure she gets back safe, OK?"

"Dad!" Quinn protested meekly, but nobody really noticed or cared.

Mrs. Morgendorffer took the cue.  
"Quinn's curfew is half past ten. Make sure to remind her in case she 'forgets' about it. If you need a ride back, just call. Either my husband or I are home and we'll pick you up."

_At least that's normal._  
"Thank you, Mrs. Morgendorffer." Jamie knew when manners mattered, but that way he missed Quinn's pout as her curfew was mentioned.

"OK, kids, so let's get going. I'll give you a lift," Jake offered and gestured at the door.

Quinn got up quickly, trying to get out of the house and the influence of her parents ASAP. The inquisition could turn into a very embarrassing event. With her father giving them a lift, that was still possible, but her mother's insisting nature would not interfere.

In leaving, Jamie shot the big-big girl another glance, and saw her drawing a diamond shape in the air with her fingers in a low-key fashion - just for him. To his chagrin, she had not forgotten what had happened in the gym.  
_I pray she didn't blab to Quinn. She. I need to figure out her name - not knowing her sister's name would seem impolite towards Quinn._

* * *

Twirling her 'underage' bracelet around her wrist, Jane carefully observed the Zon's interior. She had planned to check if the Spiral, and hence Trent, could argue for a raise for their performance. Beside trying to keep track of the patrons, she mainly kept an eye on the wet bar, where the real money was made. The Spiral's beers sat empty, courtesy of Jane, on the booth's table. The pleasant buzz did not faze Jane's attention.

"You're keen on another hops soda? Your noisemaker friends are not around?" the busser asked in passing, picking up the empty glasses.

Jane gave a shrug and lifted the arm with the bracelet. The staff knew her, but laws were laws and Jane had no intention to get anyone into trouble.

"Come with me. I'll give you a soda on the house."

Jane was happy to oblige, since her budget for the evening was two dollars. Meaning one burger and tap water, but Jane was thinking about substituting the burger with something cheaper. She left the booth and walked up to the bar.

While unloading, the busser sat an empty Ultra Cola can on the side. Jane was still wondering what this was about when she proceeded to clean it out with water. Wide-eyed realisation sat in as she went over to the fountain and refilled the can - not with UC, but with beer.

"Your soda." The busser had a sly grin on her face while offering, and the bartender looked over with an expression that all but told 'Kids. But I haven't seen a thing.'

"Thanks. Really." Jane appreciated the twofold favour, but was a tad wary. Nothing in life was for free.

"No problem. But that's not going to become a habit." The busser gave a dismissive gesture at Jane, completely sure that she had not to remind the girl to keep her mouth shut.

* * *

The third time in the past seven days, Tom entered the Zon. After last Saturday's enjoyable experience it had taken a while for Tom to get his bearings. He didn't know her name or anything else, but he was planning to see her again - even if it was just for the fun. Her leaving with the band, something Spiral, had been his first hint.

Tom hadn't missed showing up for every gig that band had at the Zon, earning him some disapproving sideway glances from his parents, but on Tuesday and Thursday he left the location almost immediately again. The band was playing, but the girl hadn't shown up with them, so it was not worth risking his hearing.

Today he was lucky. He immediately spotted her as he came in after being carded. The red jacket she wore once again was a colorful highlight in the otherwise dull interior of the club. She sat at the same booth he had met her the week before, and he saw her chatting to one of the bussers. She was known, and obviously a regular.

As Tom walked up to the booth, she got up and followed the busser to the bar. Tom shrugged, took a seat in the booth, and waited.

* * *

Her camouflaged beer in hand, she returned to the booth, just to find a familiar face occupying the seat opposite to hers. Her toy from the last Saturday was there again. Unsure what to do, Jane kept standing and waited for him to make the first move.

"Uh, hi?" The boy's voice was pretty unsure itself.

With some support by the alcohol, the devil in Jane got in control. "Hi. Like some beer?"

"I'm underage," the boy said, lifting his arm that was fitted with a bracelet as well, "and the..."

"No problemo." Jane interrupted the boy, took a swig from the can and assumed the same position as the week before again - in his lap.

If Tom hadn't been mentally prepared for some unexpected behaviour, he would spit the beer that was force-fed into his mouth all over the place. That girl loved to take the lead and had pretty unique ideas. That was a trait Tom could really grow to like. Willy-nilly he accepted his fate, swallowed, and kissed back.

This way, Tom concluded, he would even drink slurry.

* * *

Sandi spent some time slipping in and out of consciousness. Fragments of scenes were all she could remember. She was floating in lying position. There were colors and noises permeating an unnatural blackness. There were other... beings. Several huge bipeds were milling around her, but she couldn't really make out any details against the dark.

Suddenly, a bright light shone onto her, she was being touched, and something warm wrapped itself around her, clinging tightly to her even in the most inappropriate places. She wasn't wearing her suit anymore, but couldn't remember taking it off. She tried to move, but something restrained her.

Then her senses went numb, her mind detached from her body. To her surprise, Sandi didn't feel anxiety, but comfort.

* * *

From the stage, Trent saw the boy that had been with Jane the week before showing up again. He had shown up on every Spiral gig during the week, but never stayed long. He wasn't a fan. Of the Spiral, that was. Of Jane, however...

The fact that he showed up again despite the unmistakable look Trent had shot him was telling. That he was persistent enough to show up for all gigs even though Jane wasn't with them left two options. Either he was very bad people - or quite an honest John, willingly taking the risk of an upcoming discussion with the band in the back alley.

Jane really enjoyed herself. Some kissin', some making-out, cheap but entertaining fun.  
_Unless you're too carefree. Then you get life._  
But some no-strings-attached fun in a safe environment was exactly to Jane's liking right now. She was willing to take everything she could get a hold of. The guy had shown up again, so he wasn't put off by it as well. This was a clear win-win situation.

In a breath break, Tom tried to transcend the plane of non-verbal communication.  
"Look, uh.... I'm used to talking to girls before I date them - including making out with them. Sooo... My name's Tom, and you are...?"

"Does it matter?" Jane answered back, and tried to resume the smooching, but the boy, Tom, was reluctant.

That answer was not what Tom expected. "Come again?"

"My name. Does it matter?" Jane gave him a little cutesy smile and pressed a little tighter into him, trying to overcome his defense.

"To me, it does." Tom asked and grabbed her shoulders, gently pushing her far enough away from his face that he was at least able to focus on her eyes.

"Need a name so you know who to sue for herpes?" Jane's answer carried the disappointment she felt, but her eyes had her usual wicked gleam.

Without this hint Tom would have immediately hightailed out of the booth, but he was up to play that game as well. "Ah, no. With an HIV infection, you don't sweat the little things."

Now it was Jane's turn to back off, but she saw that he was kidding as well. "Good one. You really want to talk?" At his nod, Jane got off his lap and sat down across the table from him.

"So. You wanted to talk." Jane said, and nipped at her beer/soda. But that turned out to have gone stale and gross.

"Let's start with names. I'm Tom, and you are..."

"Jane." She was not willing to offer more information at that point.

"Jane Doe... right. But I am not Tarzan. I suck at swinging vines."

"I could care less about swinging vines as long asother things swing well."

Tom rolled his eyes. "So, 'Jane', what brought that on?"

"Predatory behavior taking over? You should be thankful that I wasn't in the mood for meat."

* * *

At twenty past ten Quinn returned home. The ride home, courtesy of Mr White, had been surprisingly less embarrassing than expected. Mr White neither put a third-degree inquisition on Quinn, nor on his son. However, Quinn expected that Jamie's trip home was not going to be so comfortable. Mr White had clearly been impressed when he saw Quinn, as everyone was when they did for the first time. Quinn made sure not to put on any show while getting in and out of the car - Jamie was a polite fellow and had offered her the passenger seat beside Mr White.

The date had been fun - for a first date. They talked a little bit - mostly about school, giving Quinn a lot more inside information about the school politics. After Quinn's father dropped them off, they started with a drink at a milk/juice bar, giving Jamie points for a smart choice: public, not cramped, healthy food, down-to-earth and generally appropriate for a casual first date.

They took a short walk to the cineplex, after Jamie suggested catching a harmless family movie. He was well behaved and didn't try any funny things, but Quinn found him staring now and then when he assumed she wouldn't notice. Quinn didn't mind. _My beauty needs to be cherished._

After the show Jamie called his Dad to pick them up, and they waited until he arrived at the parking lot's exit, chatting about the various cars (and their occupants) going by.

* * *

Sandi woke up like from a healthy night of sleep. She was slouched in the seat, and illuminated by the emergency lights she could see the ship's electrical systems shutting down. She was about to get up and investigate, when suddenly another impact shook the cruiser.

* * *

"Miss. Miss! You really need to get up and leave, I'm closing and need to lock up the place."

Slowly Sandi's mind returned to reality and realization overcame her. She had fallen asleep during the presentation and slept well beyond the show's end.

"Hand me back the blanket, please."

Sandi discovered that someone, most likely the receptionist, had put an old fashioned wool blanket across her to keep her warm. She quickly folded the blanket and handed it to the receptionist, still not entirely awake.

"Here. And thank you, I guess."

"You're welcome, Miss. Think nothing of it, that happens frequently. The narrator just has a soothing voice, and this being the evening show doesn't help. I'm already happy that some young folk takes an interest in the stars, so thanks for being here here tonight."

Sandi got up. "Uh, you're welcome."

"The planetarium isn't exactly popular, so we're thankful for every guest, even if they're just paying the students' admission fee. Visit again to catch the show in full, and we've got two different programmes you might be interested as well."

"Uh, my visit was more on a whim."

"Well, have that whim again and bring a friend. I am sorry, I'd really love to talk a little longer, but you really need to leave. I need to head home, " the old man said and left the theater, the blanket in hand.

Sandi got up and followed him towards the exit. She noted the lack of other patrons, became cautious, and quickly checked her clothes and valuables. Nothing was amiss. "Why didn't you wake me at the end of the show?"

"You slept soundly and looked quite peaceful. It would have been a crime to wake you."

With a surge of dread, Sandi checked her wristwatch. She would have to hurry, but she would be able to make the curfew. They left the building, and the man stopped to lock the entrance.

"Uh, thanks again, Mister."

"Again, you're welcome. I'm happy about every person who shows some interest in the stars. Drop by again some time you feel less sleepy," the man answered with a chuckle. "Good night, Miss, and have a safe drive home."

"Good night, sir." Sandi's answer conveyed the same old-fashioned politeness his words had for her, and Sandi was surprised how easy the words came to her.

Leaving the parking lot, she noticed that he had waited for her to depart first. _Now those were some good manners. The boys at LHS should take lessons from him._

Riding on dark, empty roads towards Lawndale, Sandi uttered some manic laughter - at herself. Without a date on a Saturday night, wasting time cruising to fool her mother, falling asleep at the planetarium after paying five bucks to see the show, having weird dreams.  
_I'm hopeless. Let's just hope no one gets to know about today's episode._

* * *

Daria was in the kitchen getting herself something to snack on as Quinn arrived home. Daria quickly checked the wall clock. Quinn made it with ample time to spare. Someone was playing very safe. Daria heard her mother check on Quinn as soon as her "I'm home" was heard throughout the house.

Daria didn't get what was spoken, but the tone told her that everything was alright. She was unsure whether that was good or bad. Daria filled herself a glass of juice and fixed another one for Quinn. Her hunch was right, Quinn entered the kitchen almost immediately. Daria pointed at the glass.

Quinn gladly accepted the prepared drink. "Thanks, Daria."

"I expected you to need to replenish your fluids." Daria's voice carried a tone that made clear that she was not exactly thinking of sports, but that went past Quinn.

I did not go past Jake, who stood in the doorway towards the living room and Daria's back. He had been about to make himself a Martini, now that he was sure that his taxi services wouldn't be requested that night. He frowned at the implications of Daria's words, and decided to listen in. No, he wasn't exactly eavesdropping.

"Drinking too little will give you a mighty headache in the morning," Daria said disapprovingly to Quinn, who had stopped halfway through the glass.

Jake had a very good idea what Daria referred to. Had Quinn really? Did Daria notice something that he and Helen had missed? Had Quinn told her sister something she wouldn't tell her parents?

Unseen by Jake, Quinn just made a face at Daria and continued drinking.

"You know, once we get our licenses it's going to be a pain to find cars that provide some space. For driving, I mean," Daria teased on, trying to get through to Quinn.

"Yeah, most beginners' cars would take an awfullot of folding," Quinn agreed, well aware that Daria's first ride would be her ride for at least a year. And Quinn was neither willing to put up with a small nor an ugly vehicle.

Jake shuddered at the image of his little baby girl being exploited and the 'folding' being done.

"Well, I might get an old Mini. And remove the front seats. Better access to the backseat. Maybe a Clubman. More room for an active lifestyle," Daria tried again, but Quinn just didn't get the drift.

"Daaria, that car is sooo vintage. And British."

Jake decided that the time to act had come. He entered the kitchen, walked over right next to Quinn, and started his investigation. He didn't smell any booze, even when concentrating on it. Today's youth seemed to know some tricks to cover that were even better than the ones he used during his time.  
"Girls, we'll have to really think about that. It isn't just buying a car. A car needs insurance, fuel, and maintenance that need to be paid as well. We'll have to consider this right from the beginning."

Jake mixed his Martini and cast a sideways glance at Quinn. No swaying, and her voice wasn't slurred either. She seemed not intoxicated. But Daria's hints...  
"A car also means no drinking," Jake said, holding up his completed Martini. "Not that any of you would drink, would you? Without me knowing, " he added, nodding at Daria.

"Ewww. Beer. Gross." Quinn grimaced and Daria just nodded. Their reactions were natural enough for Jake, but he knew both could be pretty creative with the truth — if they had to. Quinn had not really answered his question.

"Drinking or not, Dad, I am not going to get a car I can't sit in properly no matter how many miles per gallon I get," Daria injected, her father's promise from the evening before still fresh on her mind.

_Hmm, but you couldn't possibly do other things in there. Unless you're a contortionist._  
"Hmm, we'll see. What kind of a car did your date drive, Quinn?"

Quinn rolled her eyes. "His **father** drives some Honda. We're freshmen, dad. No license."

Jake was relieved. "Ah, silly me, you're right." Nothing could have happened to his baby girl. _Not this time._

* * *

Trent had observed Jane and the guy she was sitting with during the entire set and Jesse had kicked him several times when his anger let him speed up the songs. Max was being Max and just followed Trent's lead and sped up his rhythm as well, giving Jesse and Nick issues with keeping up. When the band returned to the pub from storing their instruments in the tank, Trent was pleased to see that the couple was using their mouths for talking, and not kissing.

The band occupied the remaining seats in the booth to have the last beer for the night. "Yo!"

"Trent, Jesse, Max, Nick, meet Tom. Tom, meet Mystik Spiral," Jane did the honors.

"Hi guys." After Jane's explanations, Tom felt less dread meeting the band than the last time. He couldn't miss the evil eye the singer and Jane's older brother, Trent, gave him.

"Tom, eh?"

"Blame my parents. At least it's not 'Dick'."

Tom's attempt at a joke fell flat, but he wasn't even sure any of the band's members got it. The conversation came to an unpleasant standstill, and Tom felt clearly seized up - with Jane's deliberate passiveness, from two sides.

Finally, Trent decided to break the ice. "Right. Liked the set?"

Tom mentally groaned. There was no right answer to that question. "'t was good. 'Hurl' really projected the urge to hurl."

"Yeah, man, we're criminales and we're gonna be big! BIG, I tell you, man!" Max got started.

"Sure, and I'll be able to tell that I'm one of your oldest fans."

Jane had to do something before the band's heads exploded.  
"Only if the noise didn't give you CJD and you don't even remember your own name by that time. Trent, we were talking and trying hardest to drown out your music."

Trent nodded. "Uh. Right. We're heading over to Benny's for some eatery. Wanna come, that place's quieter?"

Tom had a good idea what kind of fate could await him in a quiet place. Even though Trent was calm, his eyes spoke volumes about his displeasure at Tom's presence. "No, thanks, ah, Trent, I should be heading home anyway. So, I'll catch you all on another gig. Later."

Tom bade his goodbye and took his leave in a calm, but visibly forced, way. Way quicker than a surprised Jane could object.

"Let's head out, Janey." Trent said, pleased.

* * *

Daria sat at her desk, reflecting on the pleasantly uneventful day, but her thoughts returned to the elaborate scheming the LHS principal had done and used her as a pawn. She loathed that. Nevertheless, there were benefits that Daria could neither deny nor dismiss.

_Gym. I won't be able to do much as long as I'm stuck in that self-esteem class. But if it's in Li's interest, I bet I'll pass that course really soon._

Daria returned her 'diary' to its accustomed place. Giving the daily events a spin was almost as enjoyable as working on her latest story. Hopefully no one would ever take the story of her taking protection money off Quinn's dates for real. _Hmm. Might be a steady and ample income, though._

Daria had just barely grazed the issue with Li's machination in both versions; she hadn't come to a real conclusion concerning the 'offer'. But she didn't have the facts so far. Just second hand information and hearsay.

_Well. Mom's made my decision. Me making my decision with a different outcome would be... unpleasant. Money - plus. Being staff at the asylum - minus. Getting mom off my back - plus. Being forced - biiiig minus. Getting some certification - plus. Work experience - plus. Damnitdamnitdamnit._

Daria shut her computer down and switched to the now working television. She would spend the rest of the evening killing some brain cells.

_Something more recent with a working sleep mode would be much better. Booting just to check the mail is so inconvenient._

Daria rested on her bed, zapping through the channels, though avoiding the ones her mother likely didn't know about.

* * *

Jane got up. "Thanks a lot, Trent. There goes my chance to date a decent guy. What's **your** friggin' problem?!"

"Janey, I'm not watching you become another notch on some guy's bedpost" Trent answered, unusually talkative while the group passed the bouncer on their way to the tank.

Max, Nick, and Jesse exchanged glances, agreeing at staying clear of the upcoming squabble among the siblings. The three-monkeys tactics was the best choice right now.

"Damnit, I just happen not to have someone that I just need to call to get banged - like someone else."

The remark was designed to hurt, and it did. "Did you drink, Janey?"

Max, Nick and Jesse suddenly became very busy looking elsewhere in the tank but not at the Lane siblings.

"It doesn't matter if I've drunk or not, you just won't let me have some fun. Even I need some lovin', Trent!"

"But not drunk with some bum looking for a bed to sleep the night."

"Bum? Not at all. At least we now have forty bucks less of a problem" Jane said, producing three bills from her jacket's pocket.

"He paid?"  
Trent spoke in a low, calm voice that was way more creepy than if he'd been screaming at the top of his lungs.

Jane gave a small laugh. "Not exactly knowing and voluntarily. You're not the only Lane with nimble fingers, Trent."

"Damn, Jane. That's not right." With his assumptions proven wrong, his voice had lost its edge and his scolding wasn't the slightest bit impressive.

"Shove it, Trent. Food first, then moral. I doubt he'll even notice. That wasn't nearly half of the bills."

"It's still... we'll talk 'bout that later."

"Yeah, 'whenever', Trent."

With that topic settled, the remaining spiralees filled the ride home with general babble, that went everywhere but in that direction.

* * *

Heading to the bedroom, Helen was surprised to see a faint glow of light entering the hallway from the crack below Daria's door. This was odd, since while Daria did stay up late - usually writing - she did so with full lights. Walking up to the door, Helen could hear the TV running.  
_She fixed that cable thingy today. Guess she's satisfying her backlog demand._

Helen opened the door. "Daria, how long are..."

Some black and white movie running on the TV, Daria was still in her street clothes, asleep on her bed. Helen considered what to do, and started by switching off the tube. Luckily the remote on the bed beside Daria did the job.  
_I'd need a chair to reach the device._

As the sudden silence did not wake Daria, Helen decided not to do so, either. She retrieved a blanket from the hallway closet and tucked Daria in, finally removing her glasses and setting them on the nightstand.

_Your looks and attitude may deceive, but you're still a kid after all. Good night._

Helen closed the door, and after a quick check on Quinn she turned in for the night as well.


	14. Ch14 Lazing on a Sunday Afternoon?

**Size does matter - Chapter 14**

**by HawkingRadiation (aka BlackHolePPMB,SFMB)**

Story (c)2008 by HawkingRadiation BlackHole  
Daria and associated characters are 2008 MTV Networks

* * *

Lazing on a Sunday afternoon?

* * *

With a bowl of 'Model Cereal' in her hand, a glass of orange juice on the table in front of her, a pajama and bathrobe clad Quinn lounged in front of the big living room TV while the noon news interrupted the procession of the Sunday morning series. Quinn contemplated the motions required to reach for the remote and change the channel, but decided that skipping the news wasn't worth the effort.

"Quinn, have you seen your sister? I was about to shoo her out of her bed, but she isn't even in her room and the shower's empty as well."

"Dunno, mom, but I think I've seen a note on the fridge door."  
Quinn looked over to her mother, and found her dressed up and ready to leave.  
"You are leaving?"

"Yes, I have to run some little errands and I was planning to drop in at the office to pick up a few files. I need to prepare some more things for Monday," Helen said as she walked into the kitchen to check the fridge. "Daria's at the Lawndale State's library and will be back in the afternoon, well after lunch. Damn. Your father's set to go grocery shopping at that Food Lord place for next week. Heaven knows what he's going to buy on his own - and how much of it."

Quinn heard some crumbling and rustling from the kitchen before her mother returned to the living room. "Give dad some credit, mom. And no matter what, Daria will make sure that the ingredients will end up edible."

"I'd rather have her keep an eye on him to prevent any trouble." Helen took another look at her daughter. "Quinn! It's past noon and you're still in your PJs?! Even on a Sunday that is not acceptable! Slouching in front of the tube is bad as is, but show some determination to get somewhere! Get up and get dressed, young lady! Don't you have anything to do?"

Quinn was surprised by her mother's mood swing. "Mooo-hooom! It's the weekend and I'm just a kid!"

"And when you're asking about your curfew you're all grown up. C'mon, get goin' and do something with your life."

Quinn sat up and looked properly at her mother, but made her point by not switching the tube off. "Mom, don't take away my freedom to laze, that I only have now. That'll never come back." Once said, Quinn noted that this remark had the potential to backfire in a most spectacular way if her mother was taking it personally. Lucky for Quinn, Helen didn't really notice the possible subtext. However, the result was still not to her liking.

"Exactly, and if you don't learn how to use your time in a productive manner, you'll never learn. By the way, what kind of extracurricular activities are you considering?"

"At school?! Mom, there's the regular school work, the exercise you're making me do, and right now I'm trying to get another modelling job, so I won't have time for any additional school activities and haven't been looking."

"Nonsense, everyone's doing homework and some sports. I will not have you lazing at home and let all the opportunities to do something worthwhile that will look good on college application pass you by. You need to get involved and show people what a splendid person you are."

Dreadful scenes of the pep squad or some weird science club came to Quinn's mind. She finally switched the TV off, knowing that all she could do was damage control. "Mom, I'll be more than busy once I got a job, but it just won't be school activities."

"Quinn, even Daria found some extracurricular school activities she is going to attend, and with her sports she's way more active than you are. At least that gets her out of the house."

_Daria?! Extracurricular activities?_ Quinn now fully understood how serious the entire situation was for her. With that kind of an argument, Helenwould not relent until she took part in some as well. "I will look into it, mom. But that'll have to wait until school on Monday, so I can spend my last free weekend as I like, right, mom?"

"Eat up and get movin', Quinn. I'll tell Jake that you're doing the grocery shopping with him." Helen pointed at the breakfast on the table. "And Quinn, remember to clean up the mess you've made."

Quinn gave a subdued "Yes, mom" as an answer, watched her mother leave towards the hallway and quickly finished off the soggy remains of her cereal from the bowl. The OJ vanished while she carried the cutlery to the kitchen sink.

"Bye Quinn, and get ready for the grocery shopping. Your father wants to leave in half an hour."

Helen's words came dampened from the hallway and were quickly followed by the noise of a closing door and the SUV leaving. Quinn didn't even start to complain about the impossible deadline for the shopping trip, since arguing with her mother was not going to help her cause in any way. Her father, however, would simply wait.

Angry and frustrated, Quinn entered the bathroom and closed the door with more vigor than usual, creating a resounding *bang* that reverberated through the house.

_Great, now dad's going to start asking questions on top of everything._

And since it didn't matter anymore, Quinn didn't bother with swearing silently. "**Fuck it, Daria!** Why had mighty Miss No-extra-curriculars-for-me to pick this of all times to renounce and start some. Drag me down to your own miserable lifestyle, will you!"

* * *

Stirring some potatoes, Stacy watched the coffee maker pumping water through the coffee grain. She had started the coffee once she had heard her mother going to the bathroom. She would take a shower, dress, and they would have their usual Sunday brunch. More breakfast for her mother, more lunch for herself.

After pouring the coffee in the thermos, Stacy started the bacon and some sausage links. She fried them with as little fat as possible, since on a Sunday Stacy was not holding back with her meals. _All work and no play..._

"Morning, daughter of mine."

Stacy turned around. Her mother, clad very casually, had entered the kitchen right when she had started the scrambled eggs. Her timing was almost perfect.

"'Morning' mom," Stacy said and accepted a peck on her cheek.

"Rub it in, I already feel like a failure as a mother when you've prepared the breakfast."

"Mom, you're working hard. And I'm starting to appreciate this, so let me do my share," Stacy said, watching her mother doing the final adjustments to the breakfast table.

"That makes me happy and sad at the same time, Stacy. One evil coffee for you as well?" After a second, Stacy nodded, and her mother retrieved two large mugs from the cupboard. An ample amount of maple syrup, milk, and steaming coffee filled the mugs to the rim.

"How was your Saturday night. Did you make you curfew?"

"Of course I made my curfew! I'm not risking any grounding over something stupid, mom!" Stacy answered, not pleased with the implicit accusation.

"I'm your mother, Stacy. Worrying about you is my job."  
_And this navet of yours is what makes me so worried._

Stacy sat the dishes on the kitchen table and joined her mother. "Mom, you can trust me. I'm agood girl."

_And that is kind of the problem._ "You are. But being a good girl doesn't protect you from getting involved with bad people."

Stacy looked up from her mug of melange and felt the combined sugar/caffeine rush. "I'm careful, mom."

"I know." _But will you be careful enough?_

* * *

Daria wasn't sure whether she should be amused or depressed at the fact that Lawndale State's library carried all the books that Mr O'Neill used to run the self-esteem class. All contained sets of questions with hints on the answers, and while Daria did not know which questions would be on the exit test, the collection would give her sufficient hints what to look for.  
_Well, at least it's not all from one book, so he did put a tiny little bit of thought into the entire thing. Or whoever gave the script to him._

Standing at the copier and turning pages, Daria had ample time to reflect on the entire mess. _Is this even necessary? If Li wants me to do whatever she has in mind, I'll be of little use as long as I'm stuck in the self-esteem course._

The copies she made would just tell her all the right answers - but all the wrong ones as well.

* * *

Sandi sat at her desk, puzzling over some homework. Even if she hadn't the slightest interest in scholastic efforts, she wasn't given a chance. Sandi didn't dare to imagine showing up with some non-passing grades. Not again.

"Ah, damnit, who needs sine! I'll get some sinesitis and it'll make my face all blotchy! I don't need no math if I've a full wallet!" Frustrated, she got up and stared out of her window into the back yard. Sandi soaked up the autumn sun's rays trying to get some motivation to wrap things up - and at least try to do the math homework.

Sandi heard the door to her room being opened and turned her head. She found her mother looking in.

"There you are. 'Morning, sunshine'. Greeting the afternoon sun after you got up so early?" Linda Griffin said, her voice thick with sarcasm.

"I'm not, like, dead, mom. No one sleeps through the ruckus the terrors make." Sandi said, pointing at the hallway that her brothers had used for playing, inspired by some Sunday morning cartoons early in the morning.

"Language, lady! At least they got up before 1pm. I didn't notice you coming back, when did you get in? 5am?"

"I made my curfew, mom. I came in through the garage door, and you didn't notice me, watching TV in the living room."  
That wasn't the entire truth, Sandi had been late a quarter of an hour, but that would have been within acceptable bounds. But with the three quarters empty bottle of vodka on the table, Sandi had not been keen on any conversation at all with her mother.

Linda wasn't sure if that was a bluff or not, but with her headache she didn't feel like arguing with her vain daughter. "Sure, sure, I believe you. I just hope you made sure you didn't catch anything. With your clothing expenses, I can't have you rack up some huge medical bill on top of it. And keep in mind that a herpes infection is not helping getting a rich husband."

Sandi knew better than to speak up while she watched her mother leave her room again. Sandi's motivation to start the math homework was infinitesimal.

* * *

When Daria arrived at the Morgendorffer homestead again, she was greeted by the empty driveway. With both cars gone, only Quinn could possibly disturb the solitude she was yearning for. But upon entering the house, Daria was glad to find it empty and silent once again.

The trip to and from the library had taken quite some time at estimated five miles walking distance each way. Daria fixed herself a sandwich from the meager contents of the fridge and retreated to her room. She fought the effects of a full stomach after a good workout and began to sort the notes and copies she had taken at the library.

_I wonder if O'Neill ever noticed that two of these books are published by pharmaceutical companies._

Daria was still unsure how she was going to apply her new knowledge. Passing the test would get her out of the class and into wage slavery. Failing the test would mean more afternoon classes, a furious mother, and a pissed off principal. _She simply has to be related to Pol Pot._

Then, there was a steady income. To her disposal, per her father's guarantee. A certified, marketable skill. Dealing with morons.

_I need more information. On Li. On Lawndale High. On O'Neill, Manson, and the county's employment policies._

* * *

The trip to the mega mart had been exhausting. The store was unreasonably huge with the ambience of a harbour warehouse. Beside that, her father had an attention span around groceries like a squirrel on crack. Quinn didn't know much about cooking, but had enough common sense to be able to understand that the family would not be able to eat the restaurant sized packings before the best-before date. And the Lexus couldn't be loaded with a fork lift.

After helping her father unload the trunk, Quinn retreated into her room. She didn't know where the items were to be stored and would be of little help storing the loot in the kitchen and the pantry. _Thank god mom's not seen the 'extra-value' lasagna packs._

Her mother. She was on the warpath again, trying to get Quinn more 'involved'. Or out of her hair. _Stupid Daria._

Quinn knew that finding another job was crucial. The more time she was going to spend making money, the less time her mother would make her spend at boring school activities. Unless she got another of those 'volunteer work' attacks. Daria would have this covered. _Stupid smartass._

_If that Fashion Club was school-sanctioned..._

* * *

Sunday brought an unexpected turn of events. On his way to the kitchen, Charles saw a person in the lounge that shouldn't have been there. Luckily he took another look before calling the cops, because the figure sleeping on the chaise lounge in front of the silently running TV turned out to be his father.  
_Thank god the maid service was in two days ago..._

Charles' father had obviously decided to interrupt his sequence of business trips for a quick unannounced visit to the Ruttheimer estate. Most likely he dropped in at the dead of the night, and didn't even make it to the master bedroom. Charles was not entirely happy with his father checking in on him and was unsure what to do. He saw very little of his father, usually getting instructions via phone.

Charles decided to let sleeping dogs, aeh, fathers lie. The two of them never really connected, but then his father was absent most of the time. His import/export enterprise was very successful, but demanded his entire attention. _I bet that's what mom's never gotten over._

* * *

Quinn surveyed the agencies and photographers she had contacted so far - usually by talking to the mailbox, since most people beside lawyers and other criminals tried to avoid working on the weekend. She couldn't afford to send her portfolio immediately to each of the contacts, the prints weren't cheap.

She had tried to send them via the computer, but for some reason the program had refused to send the scanned images. _Friggin' pile of expensive junk._

The unfamiliar ring of the wireless phone's handset shook Quinn from her musings. After picking it up, she briefly wondered why the call indicator refused to blink before she realized that the call was on her cellphone.

"Yes?"

"_..._"

"Ah, good day, Sir. That's been me, I'm very happy you're calling back." Quinn had a hard time not to sound too happy about the call.

"_..._"

"I just don't want to generate any unsolicited mail, businesses get enough of that. So I ask before I send any letters. You're interested?" The lie flew easily over Quinn's lips.

"_..._"

"Sure, I'll try to, but my computer and I are not exactly on speaking terms right now. I might have to call some tech service tomorrow, so I'm not sure I can make that happen today."  
_Good that I thought of an excuse before..._

"_..._"

"Of course I'll try to - could you spell that address again?" Quinn quickly jotted down the mail address.  
"OK, got it. Would you like a printed portfolio as well? I can have that in the mail today, so that might be even faster."

"_..._"

"OK, thanks for your interest. I'll try to get the portfolio ASAP to you. Bye-bye."

Quinn reviewed the sparse notes she had taken during the conversation. The photographer was among the ones that seemed better to her.  
_That's a good start. Almost._

* * *

Melody Powers calmly waited in line with the other staff for her search while somebody finally had the idea to silence the nerve wrecking alarm that filled the embassy's interior. The guests had been, as much as permissible, searched and escorted off grounds earlier, but the 'missing' files had not been found.

Idly, Melody wondered when the security staff would finally believe that the files had simply been destroyed. They, indeed, were, because the fire in the dustbin inside the secret archives was part of the plan to get a copy outside.

"Damn, how long's this going to take," the female coworker ahead of her asked on a more rhetorical basis.

"Who cares. We're on the clock, and I prefer a cavity search to 8 hours of waiting on guest straight" was Melody's laconic answer. She pointed at her legs.  
_A drink would hit the spot right now. And something to pass the time._

"Cavity search? You're kidding?!"

With no drink at hand, Melody took some chewing gum she had at hand. She shrugged. "Just guessing. We're on embassy grounds. Depending on what they're missing, we'll be thankful if they've female secret service staff to do the job."

"Damn it. What's with the search anyway? Any idiot spy would have that digitized and mailed to Farawayistan already."

"Maybe, but wouldn't that be traceable? You know, like they can trace a stalker's phone number?"

"True that. I saw that in an episode of Columbo. But you could simply use a stolen phone, right?"

"Guess so. But maybe they're just happy to have a reason to feel up some girls."

Joking and speculating about the events, she and her co-workers passed the time as the queue moved at a snail's pace. Everyone had already passed a background check before even being allowed to work at the embassy's party, so Melody was pretty sure that no one knew that she was more than just Jannie, the waitress. Otherwise, she would be pushing up daisies by now. Or worse.

After a quick, but thorough search by an experienced (and pissed off) female security agent, Melody Powers left the embassy to spend the night at her alias' temporary home address, a tiny apartment in the plain end of town. Tomorrow, Melody would be back with the rest of the catering stuff to collect the used dishes, plates, cutlery, tables, ... from tonight's party. Including the _cloche_, whose unsuspicious hollow handle contained the micro camera she had used to duplicate the agents' listing before preparing the delayed fire in the archives. Unless they would x-ray every item leaving the compound, the list would be clear tomorrow despite any searches.

_Suckers._

* * *

Daria sat on her bed, reading. After everything else was done, she had typed up what little good ideas she had that day. The chill wind on the outside wasn't really inviting her to leave the house again. But again, Daria didn't really need a reason to enjoy a good book.

A knock on the door interrupted her. Daria didn't bother to get up, it was Sunday afternoon after all. "Ask, and ye shall receive."

"Daria?" Quinn asked as she entered, expertly concealing the resentment she felt for her sister right now.

"No, just an answering machine that looks like her."

Quinn just rolled her eyes. "OK, answering machine that looks like Daria, could you tell Daria that I need her to give me a hand with mailing some pictures?"

Daria sighed and closed the book, marking the current page with a finger. "Quinn, you're the one with the scanner - there's little I can do."

"Scanning went ok, it's the mailing that keeps on complaining. Please?" This time, Quinn skipped the puppy eyes routine.

Exasperated, Daria agreed. She wouldn't get any peace if she didn't. "Let me have a look."

* * *

Tea and leftover pizza was a welcome breakfast for Charles, noon or not. Little hassle, little litter. The fridge large, but basically empty, beside a little milk, butter, and beer. Charles was not prepared for any visitors - especially not for visitors spending the night.

Living alone on five thousand square feet had lost its thrill pretty fast, though it did help him focus on his business and several hobbies. There were rooms he hadn't entered in months. The maid service provided little entertainment, as they usually got to work while he was at school. Only during the summer break he saw a little of them. The way they looked at him told him that setting **that** magazine unsuspiciously into place had not been in vain. If they were tempted before, they would never even think about snooping around anymore.

"Charles, my boy! Damn, have you grown!"

Charles was a little startled, since he hadn't noticed his father entering the kitchen. "Hi dad. I was really surprised to see you."

"It's on a whim. Lawndale was almost on my route, so I decided to check in on the house and you before I catch my plane to the west coast. I'll take some of that as well," Charles' father said and helped himself to a slice of cold pizza. "Ah, bachelor breakfast, that takes me back... How's school, son? Any luck with ladies?"

Charles saw his father reaching for the pack of cigarettes in the breast pocket of his shirt, but stopping as he realized Charles' presence. "School's a joke, dad. I'm getting straight As, beside sports and science. And you know the latter is not my fault."

"I still remember that feminazi from that pointless conference they made us attend at the end of the year." He shuddered. "I haven't heard any complaints about your conduct since then. Don't tell me you made the mistake to get a girlfriend who's keeping you on a tight leash."

Charles sighed and watched his father preparing the coffee maker. "I wish. That feminazi must've called for backup during the summer break."

"So PC patrol's cruisin' the school grounds and gives you a ticket for appreciatin' a nice derriere?"

"I wish. Just some too-good-to-be-true bait to make you look and an executer to put you in a shallow grave if you do."

"'Too-good-to-be-true' doesn't sound bad at all..." Charles' father said with an undertone indicating to tell more.

With a sigh, Charles complied. "Two girls transferred in. Sisters. Both reallllly tall, and the younger one all shapely and yummy. 6"3, 150ish pounds distributed 37C - 28 - 36 — my guess. Red hair and _Rrrrr_ all over. Curves like a '68 Sting Ray, not too little, not too much, just right."

"That sounds like a tad antiquated for you, boy. You know, a comfortable ride, but not boring. Exactly, you know, to my taste." Charles senior grinned.

Charles, version 3 now, just rolled his eyes. "Dad, just the curves. She moves with the grace of your Audi. Fit, but no jock. Classy, with a touch of understatement, I tell you. Like a Bentley. Makes you look and you want to own it, but you always doubt you'll really be able to support it properly."

His father grinned widely at the image in his head. "Now, if she's moves like a Vanquish... son, school doesn't get any better than that!"

Charles shook his head. "It's just that I value my life. The older is as tall, but built like a brick shithouse. Dunno, like 200 pounds. She 'happens' to share almost all of my classes — and to be the feminazi's protgé."

"You mean..."

"They've got me under constant surveillance, dad! The younger one's hanging out with popular people, while the older one has contacts to the jocks and into the student council. The PC patrol is more like a PC Gestapo. One slip and they'll have me vanish! Speakin' cars, she's the party van loaded with a squad of goons. In a bad mood."

"Oh."

"Oh, right," Charles answered dejected. Being deprived of his prime past time does that, and recordings just didn't measure up to the real thing. "That's one ride I'd like to stay clear of."

_He is seriously scared._  
"Charles, don't feel too bad about it. Women are alien and scary, no matter how wonderful they are. If your gut tells you to really back off, you better go with it." His eyes changed and stared into space. "Trust me, that's a lesson you don't really want to learn the hard way."

Silence entered the kitchen while Charles finished his breakfast and his father nursed on his freshly brewed coffee, lost in some memories. Charles knew that he wouldn't want to know the details. There were things even he would like to keep from his not-so-innocent-but-still mind. He returned to wondering how he was going to survive until graduation without dying - neither from testosterone poisoning, nor from having his nasal bone forcefully relocated to the back of his head, nor from being a guinea pig for 'gender mainstreaming' of a special kind.

His father's voice brought Charles back into the Ruttheimer kitchen.  
"But the younger one sounds really hot."

"Smokin' hot, but classy. Model hot, but I think she isn't. I know my subject and would surely her remember her picture."

His father nodded, thoughtful. "Have you started surveying the teen fashion catalogues, ads, and such?"

* * *

Daria poked at the screen of Quinn's computer. "You put all scan settings to highest quality, right?"

"Duh, sure! I **want** the highest quality." Quinn answered, internally questioning her sister's sanity.

"But that ain't working, since that'll give you the biggest file size as well and hence a complaining mail server."

"Daria, I don't understand, and right now, I don't care. Can you make it happen?" Quinn wanted Daria gone, as putting up a friendly face was straining. She had to do so all week long.

Daria looked at the scanned portfolio pages. "That's for a job, right?"

Quinn nodded and begged, as hard as it was. "Pretty please?"

"Fifty bucks - if it gets you a job."

Quinn had been expecting a price, but this was hefty, even for Daria. "Daria, that's outrageous!"

"Try finding someone else who does it for you right now. And you need to consider that you'll be able to reuse this as often as you like, Quinn."

Quinn was not in the mood for sibling warfare, so she gave in. She'd get the money back - somehow. "If it gets me a job - deal." Daria had a point. If it did, it was a bargain.

"OK, this is what I'll do..."

* * *

Jane had not exactly been comfortable with Trent driving her to the art fair in the park, but it was either him driving with residual alcohol, or her without a license. But Jane was glad that she had managed to wake him up to begin with. Jane had the suspicion that Trent had had a little private party with a bottle of bourbon after the siblings returned the night before. Being honest with herself, Jane understood why and couldn't really scold him for doing so.

After unloading the two easels and some paintings, Jane guarded her small exhibition in the park, glad for the strong autumn noon sun. Beside keeping her warm, it motivated people to go for a stroll and hence generated some audience. Trent had quickly retreated to his clunker, and was likely busy sobering up.

Once the thermos of coffee Jane had prepared was empty, she decided to wrap things up. Almost three hours outside had left her cold, and only two paintings had sold, cashing in hardly more money than Jane had spent on art supplies creating them. _But art supplies won't pay the mortgage._

The woman that had set up camp with a small selection of pottery right next to Jane had done only a little better. Her mugs were simply easier to take home. Bringing some of her mother's earthenware was an option for the next weekend, but Jane wasn't exactly sure if it was smart to go into direct competition. _Maybe I'll bring a gallon-sized thermos and sell coffee to go with her mugs._

Jane struggled carrying the goods back to the parking lot, and was pleasantly surprised when Trent walked up to her, some bag in hand. Before relieving her of a part of her load, he offered her a donut from the bag.

"Got 'em cheaper. Half of 'em are from yesterday." Trent said before Jane could launch a complaint about him spending money on junk food.

Jane gladly accepted, her sugar level running low. "Trent, they don't sell stuff from the day before."

"They do, if you know people."

* * *

Charles saw his father off just a little after lunch time. With the cab leaving the street, he turned back and entered the Ruttheimer house again. Silence greeted him, that would only be interrupted by himself and what occasional visitor would show up.

His father's visit had been enjoyable. They talked about various things, from their current business affairs to organizational like Charles taking responsibility for scheduling the upcoming maintenance for the central heating. When his father complimented him for the surprisingly clean state of the house - despite him dropping in unannounced - Charles was honest enough to admit that this was just lucky. His father made some jokes about the likely parties that he assumed Charles to be throwing in his absence, and Charles had no intention to prove this assumption wrong. No need for his father to know that he was a social loser that wouldn't have any guests attending a party.

Charles' internal melancholy had been lifted with his father's parting words: "Son, you have to adapt. That's the foundation of human survival, and what kept the Ruttheimers going through the depression. If they're after you, you need to be smarter and make sure not to get caught." That was what he was going to do.

Maybe fly-by parenting wasn't so bad, after all.

* * *

"So, this digital portfolio should be good enough to give a first impression. If someone's interested, you mail him a link to the full resolution pictures on the password protected part of your web site. This way only those really interested get the full quality and you stay somewhat in control of your pictures."

Quinn understood little of Daria's geek talk, but that wasn't important. She now had a digital portfolio, and some extras for the really interested. "That's very nice, Daria."

"It's reusable. If that'll get you a job, it's well worth fifty bucks."

Quinn thought about the money, but was interrupted by a quick knock on the door that turned into Helen peeking into Quinn's room.  
"Ah, there's both of you. Come down for dinner, please."

Helen was pleased seeing Quinn and Daria getting along reasonably well right now. Daria guiding Quinn would free some time for her career.

Daria looked from her mother to Quinn, and saw agreement. "Sure, we were finished here right this moment. Just a sec."

Daria closed the programs, turned the monitor off, and followed Quinn towards the living room.

* * *

Jane sat at the kitchen table and did the math again. Plus Trent's Saturday gig share. Minus Saturday eateries. Plus her art sales. Minus Sunday eateries. Total a plus of forty bucks. Almost.

That was neither much, nor little, but Jane knew that she wouldn't be making money under the week, so that was going to turn things into the minus. And with Trent it wasn't as if he had a regular paying job either.

"This is going to be very hard..." Jane mumbled to herself.

"What's hard, Janey?" Trent asked between the kitchen doorway and the fridge door.

"The mortgage. We made forty bucks this weekend, but that isn't going to happen every day. We'll really have to cut our daily expenses, Trent."

"Phut blufs," Trent stated around a donut.

Jane just rolled her eyes at his manners, or more the lack thereof. "That means less burgers, beers, pizzas, donuts and more toast, cereal, and other cheap home cooking. Like we did those two weeks, hmm, five years ago?"

Trent stopped chewing. He had a minimum effort attitude at food. So had Jane.

"That's right Trent, we will have to cook most of our food ourselves, and I know neither of us is Paul Bocuse. Because if I was, I would be doing boring cooking shows on Home&Garden TV and rake in serious money."

Trent swallowed the bite of donut in his mouth. "Bummer." He took another bite and started chewing slowly. This could be his last donut for a pretty long time.

"It's going to be a learning experience. But we need cheap nutrients more than tasty food. Damn, I wish I'd taken Home Ec."  
_But that would have meant no art class. No. No way._

"It's cheaper?"

"Have you ever had a real look at the prices of groceries? Ah, forget it, you've never browsed for unusual art supplies in the food aisle. Staple is cheap. Staple in bulk is very cheap. If humans could live on flour alone, you could feed a family for for 10 bucks an entire week." Jane didn't feel like joking about likely smoke-dry farts right now.

Trent nodded and shrugged without any real interest. The donut he chewed on was yummy, but gone. Chasing the dry crumbs with a glass of tap water, he came to a conclusion. "Janey, there's something..."

"You've decided to follow Nick's footsteps, knocked up a groupie and will have to start paying child support next month?"

"NO!" Trent said, wide eyed. "Never ever. I mean, you've seen 'em too..."

Jane "Trent, get real. The only person that could count as a Spiral groupie is me."

Trent gave his trademark cough/laugh. There were things Jane did not need to know.

Jane waited for Trent to continue, but he didn't. "Trent, you were about to tell me something."

"Uh, right. It's kind of embarrassing..." Trent let the sentence linger.

Jane raised an eyebrow at that statement, whichwas not designed to calm her worries. Trent went on stage with the Spiral on a regular basis without embarrassment, so different levels applied to him. "Trent. Please."

"Janey, do we really need the money? Cook ourselves?" Trent said, looking at the bad shape the kitchen was in.

Trent's unwillingness to spill the beans raised Jane's worries to new levels. "Trent, listen: in case we lose the house due to the parents being absent, I am in deep doo-doo. Homeless minors will be registered, processed, and filed by CPS. I'm looking forward neither to spending the next two years in some home nor to mom and dad being sued for neglect. We **do** need the money. Got that?"  
_Damnit, you're the adult one here! Bonehead._

Trent hadn't really thought about that angle. He nodded, slowly. "Yes, Jane. But..." Trent drew a deep breath and started over. "Jane, I know it's not a good thing, considering our current situation..."

Jane was not liking her brother's serious tone and was fed up with him stalling. "What?!"  
_You haven't spent a buttload of money on a new guitar, amp, car..._

Jane's sharp voice made Trent feel cornered. "Uh, Jane, promise me that you won't tell the band..."

Finally pissed off, Jane got up, her hands on the kitchen table, almost knocking her chair over in the process. "FUCK IT, TRENT! What did you waste money on? Some 'vintage' guitar from eBay that's genuine fake?"

"Whoa, chill! I didn't spend no money on anything!" Trent said, seriously surprised by his sister's outburst, accompanied by making some calming gestures. Luckily no knives were on the kitchen table. "And I'm not planning to," he added, seeing that he was treading dangerous ground.

"Ok." Jane, her heart racing, drew a breath and backed off. A little. "OK. But, damn, don't scare me like that. Spill!"

"I managed to get some kind of gig. Solo. So **please** don't tell the band."

Jane raised an eyebrow but nodded. "OK." She wasn't sure she should be annoyed or amused by the buildup Trent had made towards that news, but did enjoy the adrenaline rush after it proved to be unnecessary.

"It's... I asked at one of the posher restaurants in the business district if they'd accept someone providing guitar music during lunch time. They almost threw me out, but once I mentioned that I wasn't looking for pay, they at least let me give a sample. We've an agreement for Monday to Wednesday on trial basis."

Jane was surprised for several reasons, but one issue was pressing. "No pay?"

"I'll set up my guitar case. And I might get a share of the tips."

Jane was more than sceptical about the efficiency of this kind of labour, but despite her not wanting to discourage her brother, her question had an accusing undertone. "I hope that'll result in something above minimum wage, Trent."

Trent shrugged, but felt increasingly uneasy as Jane continued her inquisition. "Three days on trial basis. We'll see."

"Three days' a long time, Trent. We've a deadline coming up."  
_Damn, that didn't sound right, either. He **is** trying!_

"Won't work any shorter." Trent answered apologetically from his defensive position.

Jane nodded. This kind of thing had some kind of a delayed effect, and even after three days any positive effect on the business would be more a guess than a result. "The audience's not going to appreciate the 'Hurl' song during lunch, Trent." Jane said, and again her voice carried more edge than she had intended.

"I'll try some classical stuff. Mebbe Brazilian."

Jane regarded her brother a moment. "Well, it's not going to be hard to be more entertaining than the Z93 'lunch hour' or the fifteenth repeat of the'Great Classics for Dinner' CD."

"Sure." Trent nodded, his self-assurance on the upswing again. Music, he could do.

* * *

Daria and Quinn were pleasantly surprised as they arrived at the dinner table and found it already set.

"There you are, girls. Your father and I will fetch the plates," said their mother from the kitchen. Each with two plates in hand, Helen and Jake emerged from the kitchen and put them on the table. "now, Jake, get the wine; Daria, Quinn, get the salad and the dessert, please."

Once all Lawndale Morgendorffers were seated, a rare sight was on display. A full home cooked meal. Beef, potatoes, veggies, salad on the side, and a dessert to finish up. "Eat up, girls."

"Enjoy your meal. What's the reason, mom?" Daria asked, eyeing the substantial piece of beef on her plate.

"No one said they had any plans, the pantry was full, so your father and I thought we ought to have a nice family dinner tonight. I hope you like the food." _And I successfully prevented your dad from any experiments._

"Looks fantastic." Quinn said while helping herself to some salad. Her plate featured more beef than she'd have chosen, but not enough to complain about it - and anger her mother.

Jake opened the bottle of "Hell Pit" BBQ sauce that he had kept hidden before and doused his beef. "It will also taste fantastic! And I brought something for those of us who like things a little spicier."

Helen gave an exasperated sigh, rolled her eyes, and took the salad from Quinn who looked a little appalled. Daria accepted the bottle from Jake, but just put some drops on her beef and the gravy covering the potatoes. There was little conversation during the meal. Surprisingly, Jake managed not to bring his meal to inedible spice levels and the food was indeed good.

With the plates emptying, Helen saw an opportunity to get added family time value out of the dinner.  
"So, Quinn, have you put any thought what you're going to do yet, beside school?"

_Ah, crap._ Quinn opted for distraction. "I've been looking for a job, mom, and I think I'm getting somewhere."

"That's nice, Quinn, but only deals with the present. You need to think about your future."

Daria shot a tiny glance at her father, who just shrugged. For now, they weren't part of the game.

"D'uh - this's why I'm looking for a job. It'll keep me in the industry, I'll get contacts, experience, and earn money. All that will give me a head start once I'll have to take care of myself."

"Quinn, money might get you through college, but not into college. You will need some extracurricular activities to stand out. Just grades won't cut it for you, sweety, if you don't want to attend Wyoming State and graduate in digging and coal mining."

Daria was busy with her meal, but carefully followed the conversation. Starting to push some food from left to right and eating miniscule bits, she was planning to make the meal last as long as possible. Anything not to land in Helen's crosshairs. _No comments, no smirking. No comments, no smirking. No comments,..._

"Mo-hom, but that's my money!"

"You said yourself that you were planning to use it for your career, and your college education is the cornerstone for any career."

_Gawd-damn._ "Mom, spending my prime years in college is going to be a total waste, my looks will simply wither away, sitting in libraries and auditortriums all day."

_Sis, you're digging your hole deeper by the minute. Maybe it's time to _ Daria thought, butbefore she could arrive at a conclusion, her father already joined the conversation.

"Helen, I remember agreeing on the girls' money being the girls'."

Exasperated, Helen countered "Jake, you're right. But right now I'm pretty sure that we'll require any money we can get our hands on to get Quinn in and through college. It's not like she's showing any effort that'll impress on college applications."

"Helen, she's a high school freshman. That's years away." Jake said as he finished his plate. His eyes twitched slightly, as the remnants of the Hell Pit sauce scooped up with the last bite of meat corroded his tongue.

"But she isn't showing any notable effort. Even Daria has finally understood the importance of extracurricular activities on top of good grades."

Daria considered making a run for it, this was going to be way ugly. But she hardly could, now with her being the topic of the conversation. "Uh, that was..."

"...a brilliant move, Daria. Qualification, extracurricular, sports, and a job. I'm proud how you managed to get there in just two weeks."

Daria was displeased at being interrupted, but knew well that this was not the time for her to complain about that.  
"But I..."

"I know, this isn't a done deal, but, Daria, I'm very confident that you'll pass all exams with flying colors."

"For sure you will, Daria, you're my daughter," Jake chimed in, much too enthusiastic for Daria's taste.

Daria shrugged. "Yes, I guess, but..."

"Quinn, you see, if you'd put as much effort into your scholastic progress as into your idea of a 'career', you'd be right up there with Daria."

"Yes, you can!" Jake rearranged a rather popular catchphrase.

Daria seized the opportunity to finish up her plate and got ready to leave the table with a sonic boom. _It's not as if anybody is interested in what I'm saying._

"But, mom, that'll ruin a chance I, and only I, have!"

"Nonsense, Quinn, a good education is the only chance you have. A decent selection of extracurricular activities will show people what a wonderful, well-rounded person you are. That'll get you places. Even Daria understood that." Under her breath, Helen added "Finally."

"Just because Daria's doing something - for whatever freakish reasons she has - shouldn't be a reason for you to make me to do the same thing and ruin my life! You're taking away my freedom to make me just another wheel in the system that does it's menial job without complaints and gets oiled by cheap TV. You're choking me, mom, you're choking me!" Quinn rattled with a theatrical voice.

"Quinn, be reasonable. I'm not asking you to do the **same** thing." Helen slightly shook her head and appealed to Quinn's reason before her younger daughter started full hysteria.

"You want me to waste my time for some pointless stuff at school. What's the difference." Quinn pouted.

"Helen, and there was some agreement regarding any money the girls earn themselves."

As Jake entered the argument, Daria saw her chance to make an unnoticed exit. With a faint "I'll be in my room" she stealthily left the battlefield-to-be, taking the nearest exit. _No matter what I say, I can only lose._

In the kitchen, she got rid of her dishes, took the exit to the hallway and practically floated up the stairs. The voices from the kitchen were getting louder, and Daria knew that the Sunday would not end with happy thoughts.

* * *

Trent sat, propped up, on his bed, looking through sheet music. Removed from its binder, it was spread out all over the bed - and Trent himself. His sister had some points. He would only bring in money if he delivered entertainment to the target audience, . _The sellout's finally here. I can't possibly sink any lower. Fuck. But it needs to be done._

Trent listened to the master, and wondered if following him was a solution. Of course not.  
_Can't space out. Where did I stop. Hmm, that Villa-Lobos number..._

* * *

"Dammit Daria. Why the heck did you just right now decide to join the pack and start doing extracurriculars?"

"'Decide'? 'Join'? It isn't like anybody asked me for my opinion on that matter, Quinn."

"Of course not. Everything is **pure** coincidence, you have no part in that, and are the victim being forced into it. Get real. It'll get the principal and mom off your back once and for all, and you'll be making money. You can't fool me, Daria, this is exactly the kind of machination you would think of. Tell me, when did you put the bee in the PE teacher's bonnet?"

"I did not put any bee into anybody's bonnet, Quinn! I don't know 'bout you, but I've enough excitement in my life, I don't need any on top of that. Quinn, you do know me, so you get real! Next thing you'll tell me that I ended up in that brain dead self-ass-team class since I felt like it?!"

"Maybe not on purpose, but you for sure haven't done anything to prevent it!" Quinn said, snippy.

"Yeah, right, I should just have popped some pills and tried to emulate your 'carefree' personality, despite all the huge difficulties life throws at you."

"My life's difficult, but at least I am trying to avoid additional hassle." Quinn was neither willing nor able to stop herself. "Unlike certain other persons."

"Your life sure is hard. Lots of friends, dates lined up, and that all took two terrible weeks into a new school..."

"Hey! That's some hard work I've put in there! And if you're referring to girls of the Fashion Club, those aren't exactly all friendly gals! Gals! If you wouldn't be so stuck up, **you**'d get all the action you want."

"Now what's that supposed to mean?!"

Quinn knew what buttons to push. "Duh! Invite someone, say that Jane girl, over and see if she's as flexible as she claims?"

A very long list with possible responses came to Daria's mind. Some were plain rude, some were disguised behind big words, some implied using things for purposes they were not designed for, some were anatomically impossible, but all were explicit. Daria swallowed, drew a deep breath, calmed herself, and suppressed the urge to strangle Quinn with her own tongue.  
_It's not worth it. She's not worth it. The entire fuckin' school shit is not worth it._  
"Just remember our deal."

Daria spoke those words in an even voice as she turned and left Quinn's room.

"I pay my debts." _I'll pay you back in spades. Greedy cutthroat, that's all you're thinking about._

But for some reason, Quinn did not feel the satisfaction that should follow winning a fight with a sibling.

* * *

Leaving the bathroom, Jane decided to pay Trent a visit before hitting the hay. Her assumptions of him ignorantly wasting the money they needed for a much more pressing issue had been derogative. OK, she couldn't put that completely beyond him, but she ought to have a little more faith in her brother. Jane knocked at the door to his room, and entered after a call was heard over the music playing. Hendrix, Jane noted.

Trent put the pages in his hand down on his lap as his sister entered the room. "Janey?"

Jane cleared her throat. "Sorry for jumping down your throat like that, Trent."

Looking at his sister, Trent nodded, and gave a faint, slightly embarrassed smile. "Uh, yeah. Accepted. But I guess you have some reason."

Jane was impressed by Trent's introspection, but gave him a snide remark with a smile. "Bet your ass on it."

Trent looked down at himself. "Not much of a bet."

"I know people interested in the goods." Jane became serious again. "I do understand what doing this means to you, Trent. I promise I won't tell the Spiral."

"I appreciate this."

"And I appreciate you doing it." Jane pointed at his attire. "But Trent, if you really want that to work out you'll need to make sure that you're a little dressed for a restaurant. Not a grunge club."

Trent's eyes widened a little and he shot a quick glance at his closet. "Bummer."

Jane just nodded. "Night Trent. School tomorrow. Remember, you need to get up before noon as well. That's when normal people have lunch."

* * *

Daria entered the bathroom, finally in a state of exhaustion that would allow her to go to sleep. She knew that she'd be sore all over tomorrow, but right now she didn't mind. Exercising was a way to burn off some of the anger she felt at her mother, her sister, and the goddamn principal. Why, for god's sake, wouldn't people leave her alone!

_Damn, that might be ruined for good._ The mirror showed her red faced, with her clothing thoroughly drenched with sweat. A quick shower was in order.

That done, Daria took the clothes to the laundry room. The undies would have have to be treated immediately to retain the slightest chance of saving them. A bucket with warm water to soak them in would do the job, the rest could wait.

Daria managed to read two paragraphs before sleep became unavoidable and she barely managed to switch of the lights.  
_Life sucks. And then you die._


End file.
